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Finding Kagome	By : MetsukiKaraTen Category: InuYasha > Het - Male/Female > InuYasha/Kagome Views: 8806 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
DISCLAIMER: I do not
own InuYasha and company. I just get a little obsessive from time to
time, and have to put it down on paper... this I share with you.

FINDING
KAGOME

Chapter
Sixteen

The drive
back to the retreat from the hospital had been a quiet one, each one
of the riders caught up in their own thoughts as the sun slowly set
behind the hills to the west. Each of them had their sunglasses on
which effectively hid their individual contemplations, as it
protected their eyes. Kagome had given Ouna the honored 'shotgun'
seat, opting to sit in the backseat, as Michael drove. The jewel
tucked away in her over sized handbag, Ouna had not yet shown it to
Kagome. She had asked Michael to please not say anything about it.

Michael
only stared at Kagome with wide eyed wonder, when she rejoined them
after the procedure, which prompted her to blush, and demand to know
what his problem was. He had covered by simply saying that she was
braver than he, to allow someone to cut her open while she was still
awake. At that she had grimaced, just wanting to forget it ever
happened. On arrival to the retreat, Kagome excused herself to go
take a nap, citing that she was exhausted. Ouna told her she would
come and wake her to eat, and then motioned to Michael to join her
in the kitchen.

“Why
haven't you said anything to her yet??” Michael demanded in a
hushed whisper, as they entered the room which was the hub of the
house. Conversations over tea, meals, it just seemed natural to
congregate there. Ouna removed her sunglasses, and looked the young
psychologist over.

“I
want her to be rested before I explain this.” She looked away
as she removed her sweater and placed it on the back of a chair.
“Kami, Michael . . . I am still trying to fully understand the
implications myself,” then a quick change of subject, “what
shall we have for dinner?” She set her bag on the back of the
counter, pausing for a moment in thought.

“Oden??”
He asked hopefully.

“Hm,”
she replied, “not a bad idea, I think I have everything I
need.” She went to the refrigerator and opened it to peruse the
contents. As she pulled a few things out, Michael pulled out a
chair to sit and watch, hoping she might share some of her thoughts.
“No you don't, mister,” she scolded good naturedly. “If
you want oden . . . then you will have to help, come clean these
vegetables and cut them up,” and as he rose she handed him a
large butcher knife.

~o0o~

Kagome
closed the door to her childhood bedroom, removing her sunglasses and
setting them down on the dresser. Taking in a deep breath, she
glanced around at all the memories it contained. Her stuffed
animals adorned the corner, sitting piled on an overstuffed chair,
which made her smile. On one wall were posters of her once favorite
musical groups, which brought a hint of nostalgia, as she made her
way across the room to the closet. She chose a light weight red
robe, and began changing for her nap. Looking down at the band aid on
her abdomen, she reached to touch it lightly. There was a little
feeling there, so she decided it was good thing she was changing. It
might start hurting while she was sleeping.

As she was
hanging up her skirt and blouse, her eyes caught the arrangement of
family photographs on the right wall. She moved closer, knowing that
some of these she had copies of at her apartment, but some she did
not. There was the one of her standing in front of Goshinboku, and
one of her Ji-chan in his formal kimono standing by the shrine that
had been built for her late great aunt Kagome. This brought her to a
picture of a pretty young girl, perhaps middle school aged, wearing a
traditional Japanese school uniform. This is what her namesake had
looked like when she was young. So normal. There didn't appear to be
anything out of the ordinary about the girl, and yet she had become a
legend. A snapshot was next to it, framed in an antique frame, of a
much older Kagome in traditional miko garb standing next to Great
Grandfather Souta. There was someone else there, but only a small
piece of them was in the picture. All she could see was the arm of a
red haori reaching out to Kagome, who's smile was bright, she
appeared to be laughing.

I think
she was a happy woman, thought Kagome. Her life had to have
been very exciting, she must have been very... brave... to do all
those things she did, traveling wild lands, hunting demons, hunting
for pieces of the sacred jewel. Though . . . she did dress kind of
funny.” Her eyes went back
and forth between the school photo and the snapshot. She had never
really thought about it before, but something didn't seem to fit. The
school uniform was 20^th century, but the miko garb . . .
was from an era much earlier. Yet she had been told that that
particular outfit was what Kagome had worn in her travels . . . a
white haori over red hakama. She would have to ask her mother about
it, later.

Pulling down only the bedspread, she slipped into the bed, and felt
a wash of exhaustion as she closed her eyes and brought up her vision
of Goshinboku. And again there were the golden eyes, this time
burning with an uncanny intensity, as though vigilant in the watch
over her. This brought comfort, and she drifted off.

And
she was flying through the air, just above the treetops, wind blowing
her hair. Her arms wrapped from the back around the neck of the man
who smelled of the forest, as he held her legs close to his sides.
Free as the wind itself, they were flying over wild lands, dipping
down occasionally for him to push off again from a tree limb, or a
high boulder. It felt so safe here, with him... but no... something
was wrong... they weren't flying anymore, he was injured.

Now she
sees the cause of his pain, he growls at her while she moves cloth
aside, soft red cloth . . . and she holds out her hands, invoking a
bright pink light, which she holds to the source of his pain, and
watches it mend before her very eyes. A golden gaze . . . gratitude
. . . and then the warm arms surrounding her in an embrace...

“.
. . we are so lucky to have you,” it was Michael . . . no it
just seemed like him . . . no. . . it was him and he had a tiny fox
sitting on his shoulder.

“Kagome,
do you have a treat for me?” asks the fox, “Any Pocky??”

“You
will spoil your appetite,” the kit was being chastised by a
woman . . . was that Sally? . . . wearing her police uniform, only .
. . different . . . the colors were all wrong . . . and Michael's
hand was wrapped up with cloth, and beads, was he injured? A kitten
mewled beside Sally, and she picked it up to pet it fondly then set
it on her shoulder.

“We
still have light, we should keep going,” said the man in red,
pulling his warmth away from her . . . back in the air . . . flying
. . . they were all flying, like the wind . . .

“Kagome...”
he speaks to her... “Kagome...”

“Yes?”
she says, “I am here”

“Kagome,
where are you??” he is worried...

“I
am here!”

“Kagome,
I need you!”

“I
am right here!!”she couldn't understand why he couldn't hear
her...

“Kagome
. . . I have to find you . . . the wolves . . . they can't have
you!!” he sounded desperate.

“But
I am right here!!”

“Kagome!!
Kagome . . .”

“Kagome.
. .” the wind was gone . . . the voice had changed.

“Kagome, it's time to eat . . . Kagome . . .” It was
her mother. “I think you were having a dream, little one.”

“Uhng,”she groaned, and stretched as she opened one eye
in the dimly lit room. She looked at her mother, barely coherent.
“Mmmm momma,” her mouth was dry, and she tried to wet her
tongue, “I was flying, momma . . . and the fox wanted a treat .
. .”

“Michael and I made oden, come and eat...” whispered her
mother as she ran her fingers through her bangs then kissed her brow.
This took a minute to sink in.

“Michael...
COOKED??” She
was amazed, as she jumped from the bed, to feel the catch of her
fresh stitches. “Ugh.”

“Well, he helped, that's for certain... and it's quite good!
Come, you need to eat,” Ouna directed, as she slipped out the
door. Kagome turned on the bedside lamp, then quickly grabbed her
skirt and blouse from the closet to change.

~o0o~

“I
think I might try to make this for Sally, now that I know your secret
recipe!” chirped Michael as he filled his bowl for the third
time.

“What
secret??” asked Kagome, “I didn't know your recipe was
secret, momma . . .”

“Oh
not really,” Ouna sat back a moment, before rising to start
clearing the used dishes. “I suppose you could say it has a
secret ingredient. This batch especially . . .” and she smiled.
“Anything made with love is special. . . am I not right,
Michael?”

“Never
has there been a truer statement, Ouna-sama,” and he took
another bite. “Oh, by the way Kagome . . . I called Sally, and
she says that she gets Thursday and Friday off and will be coming up
Wednesday night! Isn't that great?”

“Oh!
Then we can play for Momma! Oh Momma,” and she turned to where
Ouna was at the sink, “you just have to hear it, it's so
beautiful!”

“Dreamy,
you might say,” added Michael, winking at Kagome, who blushed
profusely.

“Speaking
of dreams, that one you were having when I woke you . . . it sounded
interesting, little one,” Ouna commented off handedly, hands in
the water, but eying her bag still sitting on the back of the
counter.

“You
had another dream, Kagome?” asked Michael as he rose to take
his bowl to Ouna. “Was it anything like the one last night?”
He sported a bit of a smirk as he returned to the table.

“You
are having vivid dreams, Kagome?” asked her mother before her
daughter could respond. Wiping her hands, she took her bag and
brought it with her to the table, setting it on the floor beside her.

“Well,
yeah . . . they are pretty vivid.” Kagome glanced at her
mother, then at Michael, before leaning forward and looking at her
hands on the table. “They don't make much sense, Momma, but
it's like I am really there, in the dream. Very vivid...”

“You
said something about flying, when I woke you . . .” Ouna
prompted.

“Oh
flying dreams are very common, and perfectly normal,” Michael
interjected helpfully.

“Can
you be a little more specific, little one? You also mentioned a
fox...” prodded her mother.

“He
asked for a treat, and Sally told him he would ruin his appetite...
and Michael... you told me how lucky you were to have me with you...
I mean the group... after I healed the guy in red. Oh Momma!! I
could heal!! I had the glow in my hands just like you get, only
really bright!!”

“Wait
a minute . . .”Michael interrupted. “The fox . . .
talked?”

“Ah-huh,”
Kagome nodded. “He was sitting on your shoulder.”

“Huh
. . . talking kitsune . . .” he mused, scratching at an ear.

Ouna sat
silently, watching her daughter for a moment. She then looked at
Michael who had an eager expression on his face. She knew he was
anxious to see Kagome's reaction to the contents of the specimen jar,
and gave him a hooded look of warning. There was a lot more to this
than met the eye, and she didn't care to speculate as to what it all
meant.

“Is
something wrong Momma?” Kagome had a worried look on her face,
as she watched her mother trying to formulate her words.

“I
don't know that 'wrong' is the right word . . . Frankly I am not
sure about anything right now.”

“They
are only dreams, Momma,” Kagome's voice softened and she
reached to touch her mother's arm. “Nothing to get worried
about, surely . . .” and she looked at Michael for agreement,
but she found an expression of speculative concern marring his
features. “What is it that you two aren't telling me??”

“Ouna,
just show her . . .” he nodded, face set in an unreadable mask.
“What ever it means we can worry about later, but she needs to
know.”

“What
is it??” Kagome demanded, as she watched her mother reach into
her purse.

“We
never knew for certain what happened to it, after Kagome passed . . .
the hanyou disappeared I was told . . . and it was just assumed
that he had used it to become a full youkai. Apparently, that wasn't
what happened . . .” and she placed the jar onto the table.

Kagome
gasped as her eyes fell on the most beautiful object she had ever
seen in her life. “What is it, Momma??” she asked in awe.
“Where did you get it??”

“Kagome,
this is what Horace found today, when he removed that lump,”
and she pushed the jar toward her daughter. It was going to be a long
night, so much to explain. So much to try to understand.

“The
way he described it, it was like a marble . . .” she picked up
the jar and turned it around. The thing pulsed like it was alive
with a soft pink light. The glow lit up the table like a candle.
“This is no marble . . . Momma . . .”

“Little
one, that's the Sacred Jewel. The Shikon no Tama.” She saw the
questions forming on her daughter's lips. “No, I don't know how
it got there, and yes I am sure it's the Jewel, remember, I
saw it when I was quite young. Though then it was still missing a
piece . . . and there is so more to this that I can only speculate
about.”

“What
is it that you are thinking Ouna?” asked Micheal.

“Momma,
Kagome found the Jewel and then accidentally shattered it, right? So
they had to find the shards . . . and that's the legend . . .”

“The
story of the jewel is so much more than just that, little one. The
story you know, is only a small part of the real story. She was my
Aunt Kagome, and though I only met her once, my Ji-chan shared things
with me that aren't part of the legend. Things she had told him, in
confidence.”

“Like
what, Momma??” Kagome set the jar down carefully.

“Well,
first of all . . . she didn't just happen to find the Jewel .
. . it was inside of her,” she spoke slowly to allow the
meaning of what she was saying to sink in. She saw Kagome's
expression change from confusion, to wide eyed, open mouthed
speechlessness.

“You
didn't tell me that part, Ouna . . . what does that mean??”
with a raised brow, Michael's questioning eyes bounced back and forth
between the two women.

“I
think it means that . . . I am . . . Kagome,” she said in a
hush, jaw still slack.

“Of
course you're Kagome! Who else would you be?? You two aren't making
any sense!” The two women seemed to be communicating without
words, and he so very badly wanted to understand.

“Michael,
according to legend . . . the Jewel is bound to the soul of it's
protector. My aunt Kagome was not the first, there was another
before her. The one who was first entrusted with it's care. She also
was a priestess . . . a miko, in a small village that eventually
became part of Tokyo. When she died, the jewel was thought destroyed
since it was cremated with her body. But it appeared again in my
Aunt's body, just like . . . Kagome.”

Ouna went
still as she contemplated the cycles of the soul. “That time I
met her . . . she told me she knew me. She said we had once been
sisters . . .” Her focus was in the past, remembering that
meeting with the strange, mysterious woman. “I have no idea how
she knew that, maybe one of her more advanced powers . . . She
told me that we would meet again . . .” and she brought her
attention back to the table. “I was always disappointed that I
never did get to see her again, she died before I was able to go back
to Tokyo again.”

“So
what I am hearing you say, is . . .” Michael regarded each of
the them in turn, “You are Kagome's sister, and Kagome is your
aunt . . .”

“Very
good Mikey, you have it in a nutshell,” and Ouna beamed.

“I
don't think I have anything . . . I am very confused, actually,”
and he sat back in his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“So
now, little one . . . tell me more about your dreams . . .”
and she watched her daughter's eyes grow wide once again.

“I
could heal, with a touch . . . and we were flying . . .” She
thought for a moment, “and the guy in the red haori couldn't
hear me . . . even though I was right there.”

“Your
lover?” asked Michael, leaning forward. “Same guy?”

“Yeah,
same guy,” she answered absently, gazing at the jewel again.

“You
didn't mention a lover . . . who was he, Kagome?” Ouna waited,
glancing at Michael, a realization coming to her.

“Um .
. . I don't know, Momma,” sputtered Kagome, blushing brightly
as she realized that they were talking about her risque dream. “In
the dream last night, he was the only one I could understand.
Everyone else was speaking too quickly in Japanese . . . or
something like that . . .”she trailed off.

“But
tonight you understood the other people?” Ouna urged her back.

“Yeah,
just fine . . .” and she thought a moment. “Mikey, let me
see your right hand.”

“Huh?”
he responded dumbly, uncertain how it had come back to him, when he
wanted to hear more about that lover.

“Your
right hand . . .” as Kagome took his hand, her look was far
away as she remembered the dream, and the wrapping on his palm, “Look
at this.” She pointed to a darkening of the skin which she had
never noticed before in the center of Michael's palm. “How did
you get this scar?”

“It's
a birthmark, not a scar. It has always been there,” came his
response.

“I
never noticed it before . . . so why would I dream about it?”
Her brow furrowed.

“Perhaps,
little one,” speculated Ouna, “because they aren't
exactly dreams . . . perhaps . . . they are memories.”

“You
mean that I knew Michael before? And Sally too?” she gasped.

“I
think that is very likely,” her mother nodded sagely.

“Then
just who is that guy with the gold eyes?” she wondered out loud
to herself.

“You
must mean InuYasha,” came her mother's casual reply. “He's
the hanyou in your stories.”

Kagome
stared at her mother. Michael's jaw was slack, uncertain if he was
dreaming this conversation or if it was really happening. Ouna sat
serenely, with a vague smile.

“Well
. . .” and Kagome took in a breath, sitting back in her chair,
“I suppose that would explain the claws . . .” and her
mother and her best friend just looked at her.

~oo00O00oo~
- 15
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Finding Kagome