UnBound Memories

Chapter 12

So Different

“Can I tell Jaken?” InuYasha asked.

Sesshomaru ruffled his son's hair. Such a move normally would have gotten serious reprimand and an angry growl from the younger inu, but given the revelations of that day, he only grinned mischievously.

“Yes,” Sesshomaru answered. “I will call him in. His room is just down the hall.” Sesshomaru walked to a corded rope in the corner. “Do not abuse this. Annoying as Jaken is, he has been a loyal retainer.” Sesshomaru pulled the cord, then looked over at InuYasha. “Can I ask you why you accepted it so easily?”

“Kagome.” It was such a simple answer, but spoke to the young demon’s feelings for her and how she had managed to soften him.

There was a rapping at the door. Sesshomaru opened it, looking down at Jaken, who looked rather perturbed.

“Oh, Milord. I thought I was InuYasha who rang.” The little imp’s eyes narrowed. “Milord, your marking. It is gone.”

InuYasha stepped from behind Sesshomaru. “No. It’s right here.”

“But, that mark cannot be given to a brother.”

“No, it can’t, and it wasn’t.”

Jaken began gaping like some kind of guppy, looking to Sesshomaru for denial of InuYasha’s words. “I was hoping you could find some robes more befitting my son’s new station.”

At that, Jaken collapsed on the floor. Sesshomaru turned to InuYasha, who was snickering as he looked at his red fire rat robe.

“Am I really going to have to get rid of this?”

“No. Father gave that to you, but I need you to have some more regal items in your wardrobe. Tonight, it will be my servants' first introduction to you, and I want it to be an impressive one. There are some things of Father's in that next room.”

Sesshomaru nodded to InuYasha to slide back the screen that went to the next room, which held all of Touga and Izayoi’s clothing. While his son did that, he took the little toad out of the room and placed him on a bench just outside of the door in the hallway.

When he returned, he found InuYasha standing in the other room in white hakama, pulling on a blue and white haori. Helping him finish dressing, particularly in tying the purple obi, Sesshomaru felt a bit of pride seeing his son looking as regal as he did now. “Before we decide armor, we will have to find where your mokomoko will be.”

“My what?” Sesshomaru patted the pelt of fur on his shoulder. “I have to wear one of those fluffy things?”
Sesshomaru nodded, then grabbed a dagger from the wall. He held out a piece of his own mokomoko and cut the pelt easily with the sharp dagger, watching InuYasha wince. “It is not a part of me and will grow back. It is magicaly enchanted to show where my fur will be in my demon form and shows to others that I have such a form.” Sesshomaru handed the chunk of fur, no bigger than InuYasha’s hand to his son and watched it transform around his neck into a near-collar that stuck up at the back of his neck, dipping down into his waistband. “It looks as though yours will be for decoration. It could be worse. You have a cousin who cannot wear his because it transforms into a giant ball of fur.” Sesshomaru could see that his son looked uncomfortable. “Your necklace.” InuYasha nodded. “And only the miko can remove it, am I correct?” Again a nod. “Go to her. She needs to remove them, and I believe you have a lot to discuss with her. However, if you wish to discuss the issue of mating, understand that exchange with demonic blood will kill her, so it will have to be a human ceremony.”

InuYasha blushed. “Mates?”

“Also understand that no matter what you decide, I support you absolutely.”

Sesshomaru patted InuYasha on the back as he pushed the younger inu through the door.

********

Kouga stood inside of Hitomi’s room, arms folded across his chest, musing as he watched the former lord pace the floor. “Why don’t you tell her you love her?”

“She is betrothed.”

“She made a promise when she was constantly battling Naraku to a man whose death was almost certain. That doesn’t count.”

“It does.”

“And what about the Shikon Jewel? It brought you back from death for some reason.” Kouga leaned against the wall, trying to look as smug as he could, because sympathetic simply wasn’t going to work. “You just told me that even as spirit, you followed Naraku for her. Why? Why follow her if you’re just going to give up now?”
Hitomi looked at Kouga doubtfully, wondering what kind of ulterior motive the wolf could have, and if he really cared.

********

“You really are becoming a different demon,” Miroku said in the hallway as InuYasha disappeared into Kagome’s room. Sesshomaru turned to face the monk, who was somewhat surprised he hadn’t noticed him. “Do I still frighten you?”

“Not at all.” Sesshomaru was lying.

Miroku paused for a moment. He wondered if there was something specifically about him that seemed to make the powerful demon tense up at his presence. He was curious if he bore any resemblance to the man who had attacked the inu.

“Lord Sesshomaru, I wondered if you had any additional clothing in the palace?”

“They are in the guest wing. I will show you.” Sesshomaru began raking his fingers through his bangs to cover the missing mark, but was not very successful.

“Here, let me help.” Sesshomaru stopped, stooping just a bit as Miroku raised himself up on the balls of his feet. He adjusted the demon’s soft hair, so that the distinctive part in the middle was now gone. A few days ago, Miroku knew that such a move would have meant death, not that Miroku would have been inclined before to have done this, but he had been inside Sesshomaru’s mind since then and still had flashbacks to the pleasant dream that began it all.

Thinking back on the dream made Miroku’s face grew hot, and he quickly withdrew his hand from Sesshomaru’s hair. Miroku looked Sesshomaru in his eyes for just a moment, dark violet meeting amber.

“I do not know what the contents of that dream were, monk, but you seem to have blushed repeatedly since then.”

“It was a dream I have experienced before, but you were giving me instructions throughout. It was…disconcerting.” Miroku refused to divulge more, refused to say that his mind had super-imposed Sesshomaru into a dream that usually required either a cold shower or a quick bit of laundry, not only would that have been terribly humiliating, but the demon lord was growing more comfortable with him, and Miroku didn't want Sesshomaru to think that he considered him a sexual object. Hell, he had never even consider a man anything sexual until that dream.

Sesshomaru made no reaction, but signaled Miroku to follow. Now, looking up at the daiyoukai, Miroku was quite impressed with the transformation he had seen. The release of those memories he knew had been painful, but they had revealed a much more likable lord.

Sesshomaru smiled at Miroku, an expression the monk had yet to get accustomed to. “You do not have to walk with your mouth open to show you are impressed with the palace.” He patted a hand on a jade statue of his great grandfather. Miroku was more impressed that he was getting to sleep on a real bed without an “exorcism.”
Some of the servants they had passed had apparently seen Sesshomaru’s smile and all knew what that smile would have once meant. Miroku could see they were waiting for him to meet an untimely end and were noticeably shocked when he remained very much alive.

At the edge of the guest wing, Sesshomaru slid open a door to reveal dozens of finely made clothing. He grabbed the back of Miroku’s robe and pulled the fabric, appraising the body covered by the black cloth. Miroku had a sudden flashback to the dream and was now desperately fighting a similar reaction.
“Kaede naked on a cold winter night,” Miroku barely even whispered, quietly enough even Sesshomaru didn’t seem to notice.

“It appears we have blue, orange or yellow in your size.”

“Blue,” Miroku said, watching as Sesshomaru went to a shelf and pulled a blue haori and hakama from the shelf. He handed them to the houshi and let Miroku go behind a screen to change. Miroku could see that the demon was still looking for something among the shelves and wardrobes, but decided he wanted to get out of the robes that he no longer deserved to wear. He had broken far too many of Buddha’s teachings to continue to wear a monk’s robes, and he didn't need trying to atone for a lifetime of violating the significance of those robes if he still intended to be devoted to Sango and have a family. He had too much to repent to manage that and be a good husband and father.

As he stripped down to practically nothing, he became overly conscious that the demon from his dream was standing within the very same room.

Once again, he found himself growing hard, wondering what exactly it was about that dream that was so different from any others he’d have. Not that he’d admit it, even if InuYasha had Tessaiga to his throat, but he’d had similar ones about both of the girls from the group, but even after those dreams, he had managed to be within a hundred feet of them without feeling like his member had a mind of its own. But not now. No, now it made putting on the hakama somewhat painful, and focusing on putting on all of the clothing more than difficult.

Still, he had managed the task, and through some deep breathing, he had gotten himself entirely under control. As he stepped out from the screen, he saw Sesshomaru standing, holding something clenched in his fist. Once again, he found himself at an uncomfortably close distance with the demon, who was holding out a gold and white jade ring. Miroku looked up at the lord.

“You have been wearing a ring on your right hand for some time as part of the protection of your windtunnel. I thought it might feel unbalanced without one.”

“But this is too expensive.”

“Monk, this has sat in this room since my father’s time. I am unlikely to wear it, myself, and I believe it should fit.”

Miroku took the jewelry, his hand brushing against the taloned fingers, making the heat rushing again to the back of his neck.

“Tell me, is the band you wear in your hair anything special?” Miroku shook his head as he slipped on the ring, a perfect fit. No sooner was he wearing it than he felt Sesshomaru slicing through the leather that held his hair back, an act that in reality sent more chills through his spine than his imagination had managed. Feeling his hair loose for once after being held in that tail at the back of his head was an experience of its own without Sesshomaru’s claws scratching at his scalp, once again pulling it into its characteristic style with a new braided black leather and blue ribbon band.

“You didn’t have to destroy it.”

“It smelled,” Sesshomaru said, almost as though smiling, though his face remained expressionless. Miroku turned to the demon to argue, finding his face within an inch of the demon. Miroku tilted his head upwards, still prepared to argue as Sesshomaru tilted his own chin down. “You doubt my superior senses?"

Miroku could feel his heart pounding at the closeness and the loss of control again over anything below his waist. Was it possible that it was more than the dream making him feel this way? Miroku said nothing as he stared into those golden eyes, feeling them burn into his own. Realizing that the met gaze was growing a bit too intense, Miroku looked away, turning his head downward.

“Um, domo arigato for the clothes, and the, uh, ring.”

“You are very welcome,” Sesshomaru said as he moved to the door. Miroku followed behind, eyes darting down to the inu’s behind. Miroku pondered for a moment what it would feel like, if it would be the same as a woman’s, whether it would be as firm as he imagined the demon’s body to be. He stopped himself, hardly believing he was actually considering putting his hand on the Lord of the West’s butt. Miroku quickened his pace so that he was standing at the lord’s side, out of view of the inu’s tempting backside.

“Lord Sesshomaru,” he said as he lowered the robes he was carrying in front of himself down nearly even with his hips, “the blood bond, it’s fading, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Sesshomaru answered, looking ahead. Miroku wondered if the daiyoukai would miss being connected as much as he feared he would. It had been very comforting to know he was never alone.