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Covehithe, England, 1726

Inuyasha woke up an hour before dawn, mentally insulting the rooster that didn’t have the dignity of waiting for the sun before starting to crow. One would think that after six years he would have gotten used to it; in reality, the boy was used to the annoying noise, but that didn’t mean he liked it any more; and, as usual, he quietly growled at the bird in protest.

A soft giggle to his left let him know Guinevere was awake, too. “It won’t stop, no matter how many times you growl at it.”

With one last glare in the general direction of the chicken coop, Inuyasha leaped from his bed to Guin’s and snuggled against her under the covers. “Mornin’, Mama Guin. Still, it should let people sleep some more!”

“Good morning, baby,” she greeted back while placing a kiss on his head.

To anyone who didn’t know Inuyasha, it would seem he was seven years old at most instead of the chronological sixteen he actually was. Still, Guinevere knew better, and so did the people from the village. Long ago, back when they arrived from his world, Myoga had explained to her that Inuyasha’s growth wasn’t like that of a human, which meant his physical and emotional development was slower and would get even slower as he aged, thus granting him a centuries-old lifespan. And while the knowledge that she wouldn’t get to see him become a grown man pained her, Guinevere decided to look at the positive side of things: she would have a child for many years, and that was more than fine for her.

Sighing contentedly into her neck, Inuyasha closed his eyes. Even if neither would get any more sleep as it was, they always remained in bed until the sun finally rose. “What are we doing today?” he asked groggily. Not that he was sleepy, it was just that Guin was rubbing his ears and the action always caused him to relax.

“We are going to the market in Wrentham,” she replied.

The boy instantly perked up at that; he had completely forgotten it would arrive today. “Oh, right!” Inuyasha honestly enjoyed visiting that market because once a month it expanded to display wares from distant lands, and he loved discovering new things. While he and Guin definitely had a humble life, she always separated some pennies to indulge her boy. Inuyasha had a stash of coins that he had earned all on his own, but Guinevere wouldn’t let him spend that money if whatever he wanted to buy wasn’t for his own entertainment. She was the mum and it was her duty to provide, not the other way around. Of course, she had told him also to not overspend and to save instead.

They had that argument many times; Inuyasha had tried to give her his coins to help with their expenses, but she always refused. Guinevere suspected that he somewhat wanted to repay her for having adopted him, and she definitely wasn’t going to reinforce that behavior.

A few years ago, during a storm that lasted a couple of days, Inuyasha found himself extremely bored while cooped up inside, so he grabbed a small log from the stash next to the fireplace and started carving into it with his claws. At first, he was doing random, nonsensical patterns until some trick from the candlelight made it look like he had carved the eyes of an owl; inspiration struck and the boy decided to actually carve the figure of an owl. The likeness to the actual bird had earned him compliments not only from Guin but also from their housemates, Rebecca and Victoria.

And so, Inuyasha started to carve animal figures; at first, it was solely birds, then small animals like cats and rabbits; it wasn’t long until he mastered the craft and added bigger and more complex animals to his collection. Of course, he didn’t have any intention of keeping the ever-growing number of figures; more than once, he had given them as housewarming gifts to new neighbors, until one day John, the village’s carpenter, told him to take some of his figures to the monthly market in Wrentham and see if he could sell them to one of the merchants. The boy took the advice despite not being completely convinced anyone would want to buy his wares. Since they were traveling by wagon when they headed to the market, Inuyasha took several figures with him, if only to have a variety to offer.

He definitely had not expected to sell all of the items to the old lady whose stand was filled with clay and glass figures. Moreover, the woman had asked him to bring her more items the following month; and so, his monthly earnings began. He had tried giving all those coins to Guinevere, but she refused to take them every time he did; he finally gave up when she suggested he invest in something that would help with his craft. His first purchase had been a couple of carving tools to perfect details he couldn’t achieve with his claws, which in turn allowed him to create highly detailed flowers and trees. 

Maybe Guin didn’t want him spending his money on food and items for the house, but he definitely would spend some of it on small gifts for her. The last time they had visited the market, he had spotted a mother-of-pearl set of brush and comb that he wanted to give her, but he didn’t get a chance to acquire it without her noticing. On some occasions, he had also bought something for their housemates, since the two women had become very important to him, kind of like aunts.

Victoria was the reason why he could visit other towns without people knowing he was a half-demon; she had enchanted the rosary that used to be Guin’s with a spell to conceal his real appearance and made him look exactly like he did on his human nights to anyone who wasn’t a demon or attuned to magic.

Rebecca, on the other hand, wasn’t a witch like Guinevere and Victoria. She was a very talented seamstress who had crafted a diverse array of western clothes for him to wear whenever he and Guin traveled to other places and had helped Mama Guin with his tutoring. Becca—as he called her—was also very eager to spend time with him. If Guinevere had been an inu yokai, she would have thought Becca was trying to steal her pup; that was how much the woman was attached to him. But Guin naturally was more than happy with this turn of events. Becca had also been the one to tell him to not feel guilty for calling Guin ‘mama’.

“I want to call her Mama, but I’m scared of disrespecting my mother. I don’t want her to feel I’m replacing her with Guin,” Inuyasha had mournfully admitted to Rebecca.

“Your mum won’t think that, and Guin is not replacing her; she’s simply continuing what your mum didn’t get a chance to do. I’m certain she is watching over you from the heavens, happy that you found someone to love you like she had—like I’m certain she still does,” Becca had explained.

“You think so?”

“I do. In fact, I dare say that your mum put Guin in your path. One is not replacing the other; they are both your mums.”

Those words were branded in his mind, heart, and soul ever since; even if Izayoi was no longer in the land of the living, he had two mothers, and that knowledge always filled his heart.

Artwork by hopidoodle

Once the sun had risen, Inuyasha bounded up to the chicken coop to feed the animals and collect some eggs, while Guinevere, Rebecca, and Victoria prepared breakfast and put the house in order.

“Good morning, Inuyasha! Are ye going to the market today?” the carpenter asked while moving some logs into his work shed.

“Good morning! Yes, yes I am!” The boy nodded excitedly.

John chuckled lightly. “Good, good! Have fun and sell a lot, lad!”

Life in Guin’s village had turned out better than Inuyasha had expected. At first, people had been wary of him and had looked at him curiously, but not a single person had treated him rudely; and, after a while, they had opened up to him and considered him one of their own.

Once he had finished with the feeding task, he collected the eggs and headed to the barn to get some milk. Guinevere had made it very clear early on that he needed to drink a glass of milk every day to make his bones stronger, and naturally he had argued with her that he was already strong. Inuyasha hadn’t expected Myoga to side with the woman, and he wasn’t sure if the flea was lying or not, but decided to go with the flow. Besides, he ended up liking milk.

His puppy ears twitched on their own accord when his nose caught the scent of cooking bacon, and he quickened his pace without even noticing. He loved bacon. Really, really loved bacon. Breakfast in England was so different from what he had been used to back in Japan—before his mother had died. And though they drank tea as well, it was a different kind, and it had taken Inuyasha some time to get used to the local variety.

“I got the eggs!” he announced as he all but ran into the house, making a beeline for the stove to stare, as if enamored, at the sizzling strips of bacon; all three women giggling at his reaction.

“Thank you, Inuyasha,” Guinevere said as she took the basket of eggs and the small milk canister from him, then took a strip of bacon and handed it to the eager boy. “Go wash your hands; you’ll have more once breakfast is served.”

He nodded eagerly and rushed to the water pump outside.

“Are you excited about the visit to the market?” Rebecca asked him once the boy returned.

“Yes! There’s a couple of tools I want to buy; last time, I saw one to polish the wood and give it a slight sheen,” Inuyasha replied while taking sporadic glances at the stove. When a neighbor came looking for Guinevere, Rebecca stepped in to watch over the cooking food, and Inuyasha saw an opening. “Becca, I need your help,” he whispered.

She frowned in concern. “What’s wrong, honey?”

He shook his head profusely. “Nothing’s wrong. I want to buy a gift for Guin, but it’s a surprise, and you know she doesn’t want me to wander in the market on my own.”

She smiled knowingly at him. “But she will let you wander if you have company.”

The boy grinned at the woman; she knew him almost as well as Guin did. “Of course, Inuyasha,” she agreed while ruffling his bangs.

Guinevere didn’t take long to return and soon was serving breakfast for all four of them. “Sarah and her youngest are coming with us,” she informed, and Inuyasha beamed.

A couple of hours later, Inuyasha changed from his fire-rat attire to his western clothes, then grabbed his sack of figures and hopped onto the wagon, where Sarah and her son Charles were already waiting.

Charles was six years old and one of Inuyasha’s newest friends; he was a scrawny, fair-haired boy with big, soulful brown eyes who was still struggling with the loss of his dad. Inuyasha still remembered that night from three years ago; it was the night he had seen the truly evil demons from this world for the first time.

Guinevere was reading him a story in bed when they heard screaming outside, and all three women instantly poured from their rooms and headed to the door, Inuyasha in tow until Guin stopped him and insisted—begged—he remained inside the threshold.

“As long as you stay inside the house, they cannot hurt you,” she had pointed out. “Don’t go outside under any circumstances, and you’ll be safe.”

Inuyasha watched as the three women rushed to where the commotion was happening; he watched as a man with a disfigured face bit into Charles’ dad’s neck, killing him, and then ran in the direction of a woman before Guin set him on fire with her pyrokinesis and he turned into dust. Inuyasha was so shocked at what was happening that he didn’t hear—nor smell—a man rushing to him, intending to enter the house, only to be stopped by some invisible wall when he reached the doorframe.

In some sort of twisted way, the man was not unlike himself: he had fangs and golden eyes such as his own, but Inuyasha noticed those eyes, instead, conveyed so much bloodlust and malice. He also noticed pronounced brow ridges and a lack of eyebrows, so he instantly disregarded the possibility—rare as it might have been—of having an inu yokai in front of him. The man was clearly a demon of some sort, and not just because of the obviously inhuman features, but also because of the demonic energy that the boy could detect.

“What the hell are you?” the man sneered before an arrow pierced his heart from behind and exploded into a cloud of dust, revealing Rebecca with a crossbow aimed at where the man had been.

“Get inside!” she urged him.

“But Mama Guin said I was safe as long as I was inside the threshold! I want to see what’s going on!” he protested.

“And while that is correct, a stray arrow is still a danger for you. Please, get inside, Inuyasha!” Rebecca’s voice took on an authoritative tone that the boy dared not challenge; he nodded obediently and ran to his and Guin’s room to watch from the window. He could see a couple more men with those odd features trying to attack people, only to meet their end at the hands of the witches and armed villagers.

Ten minutes later, all attackers had been dealt with and Rebecca returned, while Victoria and Guinevere remained behind to deal with the aftermath, whatever that meant. Inuyasha had asked about the events, but the young woman had merely replied that Guin would explain later if she deemed it appropriate.

That had been his first run-in with vampires. Later that night, while snuggled in bed with his Mama Guin, she had explained everything about the bloodsucking demons, and while she refused to let Inuyasha fight them, she wanted him to be prepared in case he was ever attacked.

Fire, decapitation, wooden stake to the heart. Holy water repels them. Never invite a stranger into the house at night. Although that last one only applied during his human nights—not that he was ever near the windows or the door at that time. As a hanyo, he could smell and sense a vampire even if they were wearing their human face.

A year after that night, he encountered one while out in the woods just after sunset. Inuyasha doubted the fiend wanted to drink his blood because the creature could see through the rosary’s glamor that the boy was also a demon, but it was clear the man wanted to kill him just for the fun of it. What the vampire hadn’t anticipated, though, was that the small demon child in front of him was incredibly fast and agile; Inuyasha merely leaped high to land behind his foe and quickly decapitated him with his Claws of Steel attack. While normally honor dictated it was cowardice to attack from behind, Inuyasha understood his code of honor never ever applied to vampires.

Guinevere never learned of that incident, and Inuyasha intended to keep it that way, lest not worry her unnecessarily.

Wrentham was about two miles away, so even with a slow pace because of the wagon, the journey took less than an hour. Sarah and Rebecca sat in the front seat—with the former one handling the reins—while Guinevere, Charles, and Inuyasha sat within the box bellowing children’s songs to pass the time.

“Are you having fun back there?” Rebecca turned around to ask.

“YES!!” both boys yelled at once, causing the women to giggle at their eagerness.

Without stopping his singing, Inuyasha closed his eyes and leaned into Guin’s side to bask under the sun, the rocking of the wagon adding to his trance. It didn’t take long before she was rubbing his ears, and if they weren’t heading to the market, he would have napped right then and there, even if he had woken up not four hours ago and wasn’t sleepy at all.

“Charles,” Guin called the other boy, “remember, at the market, do not call Inuyasha by his real name, nor mention his puppy ears, all right?”

“I won’t forget, ma’am,” the human boy answered solemnly. “I will call him by his other name.”

It had been established long ago that Inuyasha needed a different name to go by when visiting other villages occupied by humans not attuned to magic; and since those people were fooled by the enchantment of the rosary, it made sense to add an English name to keep up the facade that Inuyasha was a human boy. Guinevere was willing to do anything to protect him, and Inuyasha wasn’t going to make it difficult for her, so he readily accepted and decided on William because of William Wallace.

Rebecca had told him the story of the Scottish knight during one of her history lessons, and Inuyasha was captivated by the tale. William Wallace became one of his favorite historical figures, so it made sense to choose his name for the boy’s public human persona.

Everybody in Covehithe knew of this, so everyone always stuck to the charade whenever they accompanied Guinevere and Inuyasha outside their borders. The village had no more than sixty or seventy people, and to say the hanyo was touched by the unwavering loyalty his village had for him was a vast understatement. He would have never imagined his acceptance would run that deep, which was why he always made sure to show his gratitude by helping out with the many chores needed to keep the village running smoothly.

As soon as they reached the market, Guinevere and Inuyasha headed to the old lady’s stand to sell her his wooden figures.

“Good morning, Marjorie!” the pair greeted in unison.

“Good morning, Guinevere, William! What have ya brought me today?” the old woman asked while taking the boy’s proffered sack and rummaging inside. “Laddie, yer outdoing yerself lately! Look at this rose, it looks straight outta a bush!”

Inuyasha blushed and beamed at the compliment. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Marjorie, as usual, bought every single one of his items. After putting the sack of coins inside his coat and saying goodbye, Inuyasha turned to join Charles and the two other women, only to notice Guinevere staring at the glass figures.

“I’d like to purchase that one,” the young woman said as she pointed to a figure of two swans—one big, the other one much smaller—leaning into each other.

“Beautiful, ain’t it?” Marjorie pointed out while picking the item and placing it inside a wooden box filled with cotton.

Guinevere nodded knowingly, a bright smile shining on her face while taking the box from the other woman and handing her the required pennies. “We’ll see you next month. Be safe, Marjorie!”

“Why did you pick that one?” Inuyasha asked when they left the old woman’s stand behind.

“Because it reminds me of us,” Guinevere smiled.

Overflowing with emotions, the little hanyo hugged her hips before joining Rebecca and the rest, who had been perusing fabrics and silks. Inuyasha tugged at Rebecca’s sleeve to get her attention, and he gave her a knowing look to remind her he needed her help.

“William, why don’t you come with me while Guin gets food? There’s something I want to buy and I would like your opinion; we can also purchase those tools you wanted,” she asked, playing along with the boy, who nodded enthusiastically. Guinevere eyed the pair curiously before heading to the food stalls, Sarah and Charles trailing behind her.

Once the trio was out of sight, Inuyasha dragged Rebecca to the vendor with the vanity items, where he happily bought the comb and brush set; then he asked his companion to hide it among the fabrics she had bought.

“Guin’s going to love it,” Becca pointed out with a smile as they moved, hand in hand, toward the merchant that sold tools, “and I’m sure she’s going to use that set on you more than on herself.” Inuyasha giggled at that. It was true that Guin enjoyed brushing his long hair just before bed; it was something that helped him relax, especially on his human nights.

Inuyasha was forever grateful that, early on, Guinevere had respected his wishes to keep his hair as long as it was despite not being how men and boys wore it in England; and only trimming the ends a couple of centimeters every two months or so.

Smiling to himself, the little hanyo could hardly wait to give the gift to his Mama Guin later that night.

After a hearty lunch of Yorkshire pudding at the market, the group leisurely made their way back to Covehithe. Sitting on Guinevere’s lap, Inuyasha excitedly inspected the tools he bought while explaining to Sarah and Charles all the ideas he had for his wooden figures.

Once back home, and while Guin was distracted elsewhere, he hid the gift under his pillow, picked all of his tools, and joined the three women in the kitchen to start carving. He had a couple of ideas he wanted to put into practice and couldn’t wait any longer. Normally, he carved outside the house to avoid making a mess with all the flying shavings, but he wanted the company of the women.

Usually, he started carving eyes and, depending on their shape, he then let his inspiration guide him to what the final result would be. Inuyasha never had a specific form in mind before setting to work; it was as if his hands had a mind of their own that decided which animal or flower to make next. So far, it looked like the resulting animal would be a stag, one of the most difficult shapes to carve because of the antlers; and he never stopped working until he had at least a rough outline of the figure done. The world seemed to fade away around him once the boy started carving, to the point he didn’t hear the women commenting on how adorable he looked with his scrunched-up nose and scowl while being so focused on his task. It usually took him two hours to get the shape done, and a couple more hours to work on the finer details.

The only thing that could break him out of his concentration was the smell of food, especially if it was meat or freshly baked bread; and as it happened, both delicious smells were teasing his nostrils. Inuyasha’s gaze instantly zeroed in on the terracotta oven, where he could see several loaves of bread and pork meat; he barely registered his own feet carrying him to stand in front of the cooking food, while his ears twitched in anticipation of the meal awaiting for him.

Guinevere couldn’t help giggling at her little boy’s eagerness. “While it finishes cooking, why don’t you sweep the shavings littering the floor?”

Nodding obediently, Inuyasha did as was asked in record time before putting away his tools; he would continue working on the stag the following day.

Dinner was served twenty minutes later, and the little boy could barely contain his happiness since pork was one of his favorite foods. Guin usually prepared it on Saturdays and always made sure her little one had as many servings as he wanted.

“Victoria and I are going to the tavern in Benacre,” Rebecca informed while enjoying her meal. “We are likely staying at the inn so as not to travel back during the night.”

Guinevere nodded and thanked her housemates for letting her know they wouldn’t be returning until morning. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence for the two women to spend a night out; Inuyasha always figured it was to avoid vampires that might be lurking nearby.

It wouldn’t be until a couple of centuries later, and once he was a man, that Inuyasha would understand why the two women spent the night out from time to time, or never searched for a husband; but as it was, the little boy remained none the wiser.

After dinner, Guinevere prepared Inuyasha’s bath; and while the boy was old enough to bathe by himself, he always needed help when washing his long hair. Once he was dry, he sat on his bed waiting for Guin to finish her own bath; the set of comb and brush, carefully wrapped in a red cloth, laid on top of Guinevere’s pillow.

“All right, time to get ready for bed!” she cheerily said as she entered the room, instantly noticing the bright bundle on her pillow. “What’s this?”

“It’s a gift. Open it! Open it!” The little hanyo wiggled on his bed, barely containing his excitement.

The young woman stared curiously at the mysterious gift before sitting next to Inuyasha and carefully unfolding it. “Oh my gosh, they’re beautiful,” she said while inspecting the items, “you didn’t have to, Inuyasha, but thank you; I love it.” Guinevere pulled him into her arms, kissing his head lovingly.

“I’m glad you do,” he replied while sinking into her embrace.

With one last kiss on his forehead, she turned him around to sit him in front of her. “Let’s give this brush a good use, shall we?” And with that, she began brushing Inuyasha’s long silver mane.

This was his favorite moment of the entire day; Guinevere always spent about half an hour brushing his hair and rubbing his ears while they chatted animatedly or sang or made plans for the following day. Sometimes, he brushed her long hair too, but not tonight; Guin had already donned it in a braid.

Before getting tucked in bed, Inuyasha always said a prayer to his mother, telling her how much he missed her, asking her if she was proud of him, thanking her for putting Guin in his path, and wishing the two women had met. Maybe Izayoi had a hand in Inuyasha meeting Guin, maybe she didn’t, but the little boy liked to think his late mother was partially responsible for his new happy life.

It wasn’t long until he fell asleep in Guin’s arms; and once his breathing evened out, she quietly slipped out of his bed.

“Sleep well, my little angel.” With one last kiss to his forehead, Guinevere retired to her own bed, thanking the gods, as she always did, for having gifted her the most precious son in the world.

Stonehaven, Scotland, 2009

Inuyasha sat over the cliff overlooking Old Hall Bay, the late afternoon sun warming his back as he worked diligently on the wooden figure in his hands. He had postponed crafting this one long enough; he had started and abandoned it at least ten times in the past twenty years, but that morning he had woken up with a sense of purpose and wouldn’t let anything distract him or persuade him to stop. It wouldn’t be long now; the small figure in his hands was only missing a few finishing touches and a proper polishing.
 

Turning the finished figure in his hands, and inspecting it for any detail it might be missing, he smiled to himself before heading back home. The castle was mostly empty at this time of the day, except for Old Jane, who was cooped up in her room while knitting and watching soap operas as she always did.

Striding purposely into his massive bedroom, the young man stood before the glass display and stared lovingly at the two figures that sat on a green velvet cloth. Carefully sliding the glass door, he stared one last time at the child version of himself in his hands before placing it between the figures of Izayoi and Guinevere—immortalized by him over a century ago. Inuyasha placed a silent kiss on his middle and forefinger before touching the heads of the two women that meant the world to him.

He smiled at the finished scene in front of him: his two loving mothers watching their beloved little boy playing on the grass with small animals under a sakura tree and an oak.

“It’s truly a beautiful scene, Master Inuyasha,” Myoga commented while perched on the hanyo’s shoulder.

“Thank you, old man.”

With a last look at his masterpiece, the young man gently slid the glass door shut.

“I love you, moms,” Inuyasha whispered before leaving his bedroom for a run out in the woods.