KAWAAKARI

"The river that glows amidst the darkness"

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Part II

Chapter XIX

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The night of the new moon was the worst night of the cycle for InuYasha. The darkness that engulfed everything dragged him into his worst memories. For as long as he could remember, this was a detestable time; all his weaknesses would flare up during the hours when the sun was hidden, even more so in the winter cycles. The centuries had taught him to stop fearing for his life, but even so, it was the moment when all those things that made him unhappy surfaced.

He was sitting on the ground next to the tree that guarded his mother's grave. He remained silent and hidden, accompanied only by a rock, now semi-covered by the moss that had grown since the last time he was there. At first, during the early years after her death, he would come to the place every new moon he could to feel a little less lonely. Despite the hundreds of years that had passed, he couldn't forget the way he trembled in fear of abandonment, the cold, and the overwhelming emotions that accompanied his transformation into a human. He would approach the grave seeking the comfort given to him by the only person he trusted. In the beginning, during the first transformations he remembered, he didn't know what was happening to him, and his mother lacked sufficient knowledge to give him an answer. In his hanyou state, his physical senses were more subtle, allowing him to perceive a creature from a great distance by sound or smell. Similarly, his human state made him vulnerable to emotions he couldn't manage. Pain turned into suffering, and desire into an urge so intense it seemed to tear at his insides. This was one of the reasons why humanity was unbearable to him.

He looked up then, catching a glimpse of the stars through the raw oak branches. The sky seemed full of them on this cold, clear night at the end of winter. InuYasha wondered if, as a hanyou, he would be able to see even beyond the astral lights he could see in the sky during a moonless night with these human eyes. He was sure that would be the case. He resigned himself to never being able to confirm it.

"I'm leaving, ofukuro. Dawn will soon be here," he addressed those words to the memory of his mother. His tone was resolute, but there was a certain nostalgia buried beneath the emotional layers that InuYasha possessed and never explored.

He prepared to return to his residence, yet his gaze was drawn back to the rock marking the place where he had buried his mother's ashes. He hadn't wanted to scatter them in the forest or the lake nearby at that time; he felt he didn't want to lose what remained of the only person who had treated him with kindness. He sighed and approached the stone to start removing the moss that covered his mother's name. The kanji began to appear, and InuYasha traced each line that made up the name Izayoi with a fallen branch. He had sad memories of his mother, which were intertwined with the smile she showed him, every time he would learn something taught by her. All those memories remained hidden, almost forgotten during his days as a hanyou, but the nights of the new moon seemed made for deep reflection.

Finally, he removed the undergrowth around the stone and then took the path back to his residence. As he walked swiftly through the forest along the paths he found, he felt the first heartbeat in his body, signaling that the hanyou was returning. He wasn't sure of the supernatural reason behind this change; Myoga had told him that this happened to those with mixed blood like his, but InuYasha had never met anyone like him until now. He felt a second heartbeat, this time stronger, and his veins seemed to dilate under the force with which his hanyou heart pumped. When a third heartbeat was felt, InuYasha inhaled deeply and felt the power invading his body, along with the physical pain that accompanied the transformation. The moment a fourth and final heartbeat shook him, he knew that the new moon was behind him and the metamorphosis was complete. He welcomed it by running until he gained the momentum needed to climb to the top of a tree and from there, smell the fresh morning air.

He entered the residence through the main door, still dressed in his red outfit made of fire rat hair. Myoga came to meet him immediately, and InuYasha frowned slightly at the worried expression on the man's face.

"What's wrong?" he asked with little courtesy, but that didn't seem to matter to Myoga.

"You see, sir, the agony of the man you brought with you two nights ago has not ceased."

InuYasha let out a low, dark growl intended to release the accumulated frustration. He had dragged that miserable human to the dungeon, ignoring that the new moon would arrive in a few hours and he wouldn't be able to deal with him as usual. He was annoyed with himself for not having foreseen that.

"I'll go down in a moment," he decided and walked past Myoga. Then he remembered something and turned in his direction to ask a question, "Has everything needed for the meeting arrived?"

"Yes, sir, everything is ready for two days from now."

The response pleased InuYasha, and he felt something akin to joy. With a gesture, he tensed his jaw, clenching his teeth, probably due to some residual emotion from his recent transformation into a human.

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"Tsuyoi-sama, thank you for keeping part of my family with you until we fully prepare our residence."

Sango didn't overlook the forcibly gentle tone Lady Kyōfū used when addressing her father. She struggled to understand how he didn't notice it as well; after all, he came from a family renowned for their ability to foresee danger, and Sango felt that alert every time she was near the Kyōfū.

"We are delighted to host your cousins, Kagura-sama."

Sango wasn't surprised by her father's response. Nor was she astonished by the closeness he maintained with Kagura Kyōfū, or the gentle manner in which he addressed the woman who kept her hand on the arm Tsuyoi Taijiya usually wielded his sword with. What Sango felt was a kind of resigned disappointment and wondered if the image she had of her father, was one a girl who didn't see reality would have.

"Sango-sama," Kagura Kyōfū addressed her directly, and Sango felt as if her thoughts had been caught. She fixed her gaze on the woman, with all the composure she could muster at that moment. "I hope my cousins' stay doesn't cause you too many inconveniences," the woman expressed with courtesy and correctness; however, Sango perceived emptiness in each of her words.

"Do not worry," Sango gave a slight bow of her head, as the situation warranted. She could have added that it was no trouble, but she had no intention of lying.

At that moment, an erratic movement caught her attention, and she observed how one of the fine porcelain cups, belonging to a set her mother had cared for meticulously, fell. She didn't miss any detail of the object's journey from the table to the cushioned tatami floor, hoping that surface might save the piece from its fate. For an instant, she wondered why she didn't use her quick reflexes to catch the cup as it fell. However, she had no answer. She watched the painted cherry blossom on its surface as the cup gave a slight bounce, lifting again. Sango perceived that movement as salvation, but a second touch on the tatami created a fissure that crossed the cherry blossom. The contained tea spilled completely, and Sango couldn't help but think it seemed like an allegory speaking of herself, of how paralyzed she was, and how much she was struggling to envision her life's future.

Perhaps, if she were to ran away, she managed to think. Before that idea could develop, one of her guests spoke up.

"It is unfortunate. I hope the piece my brother broke wasn't too important," said Kageromaru, one of Kagura Kyōfū's cousins. Sango clenched her hands into fists over the fabric of her komon, a gesture hidden from the others.

"Tsuyoi-sama, I apologize for Juromaru-san's carelessness," Lady Kyōfū said, placing her hand once again on Sango's father's arm. Sango breathed slowly and deeply to avoid standing up and leaving the room. For her family, decorum was very important. One of the precepts her father had taught her was not to be dependent on partial feelings under any circumstance. However, now that she saw him place his own hand over Kagura Kyōfū's, Sango wondered if he was indeed the same man who had raised her.

"Someone should clean this up," Hakudoshi Kyōfū commented in his characteristic condescending tone, and Sango shot him a look that her fiancé didn't miss, returning it with the icy stare of his violet eyes. Sango returned her attention to the cup on the floor.

"Kasumi," her father called the woman who worked with them, and she approached with a bow to pick up the damaged cup and clean as best as possible the moss-green stain that stood out on the tatami.

Sango continued to question the implausible submission the head of the Taijiya family showed towards Lady Kyōfū. She became aware of it the very day they betrothed her to Hakudoshi. She decided to remain silent for the rest of the conversation, observing how the attendees communicated with fleeting glances and whispers inaudible to her. Sango wondered when she had lost her home.

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Kagome had approached the temple run by Miroku-sama, and as soon as she crossed the threshold that separated the street from the garden of the small temple building, she knew the place needed a lot of help. Her second impression was about the little space available to attend to those who came seeking aid. She could see people sitting on makeshift benches made of stones and some wood, which, judging by the size of the holes in the walls of the small temple, might have been used to improve the structure that seemed to be standing up only through the grace of a kami. The thought of resorting to Hojō crossed her mind, for he may have some leftover material from his family's carpentry that may be useful here, yet she doubted that now was the best of times to request something of her friend.

Miroku-sama came to meet her and Haruka-sama, who was carrying a wooden box with some sacks of rice that would feed the temple's visitors for a couple of days.

"Your presence honors me, Kagome-sama," Miroku made a correct and respectful bow.

For Kagome, it was evident that the correctness in the form of a greeting was something that had been taught to her from a young age; however, the second impression that an encounter conveyed was what guided her; in this case, respect. She could read in Miroku-sama an honest attitude, focused on what was important to him, and at this moment, it was the restoration of the temple. Therefore, he was courteous, direct, and considerate with her.

"The honor is mine, Miroku-sama," Kagome responded with her own correct greeting, which she enhanced with a soft smile that Miroku didn't seem to miss.

"Welcome as well, sir," the deference was directed to the man accompanying Kagome.

"Thank you very much, houshi-sama," Haruka responded with grateful kindness.

"This is Haruka-sama," Kagome made the introduction. "He has worked with the Higurashi family for as long as I can remember," she accompanied that statement with a smile directed at the man beside her. "He brings a small offering for your temple."

Once Kagome said that, Haruka extended the wooden box to Miroku, who received it with expected cordiality. He then gave them directions to enter beyond the garden.

"As you may have noticed, Kagome-sama, the place is humble. However, you are welcome here as often as you wish," Miroku perfectly combined necessity with kind treatment.

Kagome took a step into a room no larger than Hanae's herb storage. In it, there was an altar with a figure of Buddha drawn on a wooden tablet, along with an offering of water, a sutra written on parchment, and an incense stick that was almost completely burned. The floor remained bare, so she assumed that anyone coming to pray had to do so without any protection from it. She decided she would do the same.

"I would like to pray for a moment," Kagome requested to the monk.

"Of course," the man extended a hand toward the altar in an inviting gesture.

Kagome approached the sacred place and bowed before kneeling in front of it. Miroku joined her, and they remained like that for as long as they needed. The monk was the first to finish his prayer, waiting patiently for her to finish.

"It's a beautiful place," Kagome smiled as she said that, while opening her eyes and positioning her mind. The temple seemed to shine differently than when she entered it, and she could only attribute that to her perception of the energy in the environment.

"I appreciate that you see it that way," Miroku's words were accompanied by a soft bow, "it is a great consideration coming from a shrine maiden."

Kagome simply returned the gesture with her own.

"I would like to show you the rest of the place," offered the monk.

"I would love to see it," Kagome stood up with enthusiasm.

Thus, they both left the main hall of the temple and began walking through a backyard that was somewhat larger than the front. It was evident that efforts were being made to take care of the space, although it was still insufficient.

"Have you visited Sango-sama?" Miroku asked the question without preamble and without the usual care in conversation. Kagome was surprised by the manner, though not by the content.

"Not for a few days. Have you been able to see her?" From the expression she saw on the man's face, Kagome assumed his answer would be negative.

Miroku made a slight gesture with his head, confirming what she thought.

"I haven't been able to find her during my last visits to the Taijiya residence," the monk seemed worried beyond the fact that he couldn't see Sango. Kagome waited for him to finish his explanation. "I must confess I'm a bit concerned," at that moment, Miroku dared to look at her, and Kagome could glimpse the protective energy that was beginning to manifest in him. "The women in her kitchen were overwhelmed with work and talked about certain guests who would be staying at the residence for a few days."

Miroku silenced his conversation without revealing the real reason for his concern about Sango. The fact that there were visitors was not relevant—it happened in many houses with certain status, especially during the winter months when less fortunate relatives needed the abundance of those who had better living conditions. However, Kagome knew that the events at the Taijiya residence were due to other matters. She wondered how much Miroku-sama knew about it.

"I'll stop by her residence to check on her," Kagome tried to make her words bring calm to the devout man beside her. Miroku showed a hint of a smile that never fully materialized. "Do you want me to pass on any message from you?"

Kagome was surprised by the range of emotions she could see for a moment in the monk's eyes and energy. Miroku seemed to burst for that instant, only to settle his mood again and appear composed.

"Just tell her I hope she's well," Miroku limited everything Kagome could see to a simple phrase that could be considered mere courtesy. However, she thought that for him and Sango, those words carried another weight and meaning.

"I shall do so," Kagome agreed.

Both remained silent for the time needed for that commitment to settle between them.

"I would like to show you a special place in this temple," Miroku resumed the walk.

"Of course," Kagome nodded.

They walked a bit further. Kagome was surprised by how spacious the backyard seemed and concluded that this must have once been a large temple. They took the only path available and approached an altar set up next to a stone grotto.

"This is the altar to Hachiman," Miroku pointed out the place.

Only then did Kagome notice a new wooden tablet on which a dove figure was carved and marked with fire.

"I didn't know that Buddhism considered the honorable Hachiman," Kagome made evident her curiosity about seeing that altar.

"I believe that the deity of agriculture and warriors should be considered in every form of belief," the monk picked up a stone from the ground that barely filled a third of his hand and balanced it on top of two others on the altar as an offering.

Kagome picked up a leaf and delicately placed it on the pile of stones, making a gentle bow to accompany the gesture.

"I doubt you don't know, Miroku-sama, that Hachiman is also the protective deity of human life," Kagome smiled at him with a certain friendly complicity that she felt completely natural with this man who cherished her best friend.

The monk smiled and lowered his gaze to the dampened woods that marked the path.

"I know the legend that places him in that position," Miroku raised his gaze to meet Kagome's as he mentioned that, to recite part of the story passed down through generations. "And it is said that as long as supernatural entities inhabit the earth, there will be a representative of the noble Hachiman."

"Those are the words inscribed next to the pagoda dedicated to Hachiman at the Higurashi Temple."

"At another time, I would like to tell you about another legend," Miroku-sama smiled a little more after saying that, and Kagome sensed that smile held something hidden. She also noticed that the energy around the monk became intensely protective.

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To be continued

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N/A
A few years ago, I would have called this chapter a "transition", but now I understand that they are foundational chapters and that they are essential for stories to grow in strength. I really enjoyed writing this particular chapter, and I hope you enjoyed it as well.

Thank you for reading, commenting, and joining me on the adventure of creating.

Anyara

This text is possible thanks to the translation of: Dezart