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XIV: The Gathering
“Ba-san! Baaaaaaaa-saaaaaaan! BAAA-SAN!!”
The very noise sets the Lady Arikura’s teeth on edge. The dainty tea cup in her hand sloshes every so slightly to show her displeasure of the screech coming from the great hall of her floating palace.
She sighs and lowers the cup, waiting to be invaded by her grandchildren, the children of Sesshomaru’s older half-brother: the heir to her kingdom and her legacy. Just like Sesshomaru inherited Taisho’s empire, Katsuo already oversaw the business of running her lands. Gratefully, she allowed him to take over a bulk of the responsibilities shortly after Sesshomaru was born; with Katsuo ruling and Sesshomaru old enough to begin his exile, it had been time for her to join the ranks of elder demons when her youngest son entered the Great Trial. Unlike she and her younger son, Katsuo is a warm husband and father to his family and his people. He is so drastically different from her while Sesshomaru so similar, yet still Katsuo’s sire (a marriage of convenience) had not been tender and warm, either. The elder son was merely a very different animal. Apparently, he learned a completely different lesson during his time within the trial—warmth and emotion, people one cared about enough to protect, all traits of a great ruler. He came from his trial earning the respect of the peasantry and had proven to be a fair and kind ruler to his people.
The end result, of course, is that her several grandchildren are much too warm and inviting for her tastes; however, her bloodline will continue, and in some small way, she does love her progeny.
This abrupt visit from her son and his family (as well as from several of her cousins, nieces, and nephews now taking up space in her home) comes upon the announcement of the hanyou’s release from exile. The living shiro-inus are few in her family, and even scarcer on Taisho’s side, but those that were able would inevitably travel to meet one of their own. In this way, she is certainly an oddity, lacking the instinct to be close to family. She has and will always be a lone dog.
“Ba-san! Where is baa-baaaaa?!”
Sigh.
How is it the royal palace must now be meeting place as well as a conveyance to the West? And that is precisely the direction the castle is leisurely heading. Once Katuso, his mate Hiromu, and their three pups came to the palace (and later told her they believed her to be heading to the Western Palace the whole time—ridiculous), it seemed the rest of the family took it upon themselves to join en masse.
“Ari-baba!” Closer this time, not far down the hall. It is Katsuo’s youngest of three pups, the runt of the litter. A female, Emiko.
“Follow your nose, child.” She really is disgraceful, calling out to the little one, but resumes sipping her tea and waiting (with masterfully hidden irritation) for the pup to find her.
Padding of feet and the swish of armor, the child is not alone.
“Really, Mother. She is only a pup.” Katsuo peeks into her entertaining room, the child cradled on his hip. Disgracefully, the child leaves fingerprints on his chest plate, and he didn’t even seem to mind.
Knowing any attention to the matter would be for naught, the lady raises a brow. “She is an inu, my son. Her nose is her strongest weapon.”
“Hn.” Her oldest is as tall and lean as Sesshomaru, all sinewy strength with the characteristic golden eyes and white mane. His marking are the likeness to hers and his brother’s, making the two inus seem almost like twins rather than Katsuo four centuries older. Their only differences lie in the crinkles around Katsuo’s eyes and mouth, laugh lines. His face knows how to smile.
He bows respectfully to her, child still in tow, “it seems we will be having quite a family reunion, mother. Akio and Manami have arrived.”
More? “It seems you may have a point, Katsuo.” She sniffs, “though why your cousins and uncles could not take their own transportation is beyond me.”
To her disdain, he laughs aloud, drawing the eyes of his precious child up to his face. “Mother, even as ancient and wise as you are, is it really such a stretch to image that our family may
want to be in one place together?”
“It is ridiculous to gather everyone here. It
is a floating palace, after all. What if our cloud begins to sink?”
Again with his boisterous laughter, “then I’m sure this many demons and sorceresses could figure out how to get us to the West. Surely you would know what to do, wouldn’t you, Lady?”
“It is possible not even I could keep us in the air if the whole of our family came to the door. Why they are all congregating here is a mystery to your mother.”
At that, Katsuo grinned and the twinkle in his eye caught her suspicions immediately. The lady flows to her feet, not a single wrinkle in her expensive and tasteful kimono.
“Katsuo,” a world of warning in her coldly calm tone, “
why is the whole family coming here?”
“Keh, I haven’t the faintest, Mother.”
“Kat
suo.”
At her tone, the younger dog just feigns innocence all the more. “I had nothing to do with the invitations, Mother, so do not blame me!”
“Invitations?” Her perfect face crinkles as a brow arches up and she stills.
“To my little brother’s inauguration as a lord! Surely you would want all the family to bare witness to our returned pup? He will be taking his rightful place after so many years of exile.”
You little...! “...Regardless of what you may think, my son, you are not too old for punishment from your highly annoyed mother.”
He gave her a cheeky grin and wave while Emi sucked on her teether, a bone made for her to gnaw on when her teeth hurt. That brat just brought the child along to yell; he knew of her irritation. He was just like his sire. Annoying.
“I will see you at dinner, Mother!”
II:
Two days prior
“We fly.”
“We run.”
“We
fly.”
“We
run.”
“Fly.”
“Run.”
“Fly.”
“Run.”
“Fly!”
“Run!”
“Flying will save time and aggravation.”
“Running will get us a little exercise after being cooped up for days!”
“The West needs this Sesshomaru in attendance. Things are still unsettled.”
“You’ve got good people to do what needs be done. C’mon and live a little.”
“Hn. Your turn of phrase is idiotic, this Sesshomaru is very much alive regardless of whether in flight or not.”
While walking on the same path the army took recently, the hanyou pauses long enough to give his brother a raised brow.
“Seriously? That’s where you’re going? I’m revoking your right to make any jokes,
ever.”
“Hn. That should have been sufficient to fulfill your strange comedic requirements, except for including random curse words and pointless blustering.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“As you yourself would say, InuYasha, ‘I believe you are full of bullshit’.”
“Keh. That’s too much, asshole. ‘Yer full of shit’ or a simple, ‘bullshit’ gets the point across.”
Dryly as possible, InuYasha shakes his head. While his moods and actions are pretty well set and predictable, Sesshomaru can jump from one end of the spectrum to the other. This icy sonofabitch shouldn’t be a guy trying to make jokes. The perfect opponent, Sesshomaru is one to keep you on your feet and adapting, but at least he was trying to take it easy on the younger inu and not be weird with all the mating stuff. Luckily, he also wasn’t sore about that blast of holy helluva light either.
The hanyou takes in deep, cleansing breath, expelling a puff before going back to ignoring the stoic demon lord beside him and reigning in on his newly expanded senses. His nose is twitching like mad with the even more numerous myriad of scents stuffing his brain full; he could damn near map out the whole area without moving from this spot. Sure, for a half-breed, his nose is pretty impressive, helluva lot more sensitive than any human, but full-demons could scent for miles away. For all he knew, Sesshomaru could scent all the way to the sea. His picture from far away used to be sketchy at most: a body of water close, not depth or span. A demon with poison or distinctive auras, not enough specifics to give him the whole picture of what he was smelling. Made it easy for demons to get the drop on him.
Well. Apparently shit got real. Standing two days’ travel away from the Western Palace, and he –the shameful, weak half-breed bastard—can get a whiff of the mangy wolf inside rock. He can get a hint of brimstone from the fires lit in a single chamber...but not just to their north. Naw. He knows a village is lying ten miles to their backs, one he and the pack had visited during their search for the jewel, one that had always been too close to the Western Lands for him to visit before. You know, all that exile business.
To the west of them had several smaller bands of humans and demons, not close enough to be on his ass before he could get Tetsuaiga out for some slice and dice time, but something he shouldn’t (couldn’t have) picked out so clearly a few days ago. Hell, he can count the humans down to the one gross fucker with lice and a bad case of swamp-ass, and he ain’t even downwind.
He is receiving everything so clear now, so many more details he could pick out just from nuances of scent, traces of a smell.
Damn, if Sesshomaru’s got more range than this, no wonder he could smell a war brewing. “Inu
Yasha.”
This said so close to his ear, the hanyou flinches to a stop. He hadn’t even been paying attention to his brother, and his instincts hadn’t warned him the bastard was on him.
“Gah! That’s my fricking ear.”
“You were not responding to a very simple question. It has been some time since then.”
The hanyou blinks, one of those slow blinks of disbelief. That tone is almost...petulant. Is Sesshomaru
sulking at being ignored?!
Stoic face, nose upturned. Yeah, yeah he is. InuYasha promptly bites the inside of his cheek and squints his eyes so he doesn’t start laughing. Touchy bastard might get offended.
“Whatsat?”
“The inquiry is why you refuse to fly. Your kit is awaiting you as is Xin and others that need guidance in the next phase of attack, all of which demand an expedient return.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know there’s shit that’s got to be seen to. I get that, but I need to stretch my legs out. Y’ wanna go on ahead, that’s all right.” He started on his way again, determined to feel out the range of his senses. “I’m okay now.”
The demon lord frowns and follows, striding up to block his younger sibling’s path. “Something troubles you. This Sesshomaru would know your thoughts.”
InuYasha give him a “what the fuck are you talkin’ about” expression, “I dunno where you’re going with this. Nothing’s wrong, Lord Frosty-Ass. Yer back to this, ‘I am an island’ crap again.”
Sesshomaru sucks in a long-suffering sigh and gives the hanyou a dry look right back, “you are...
disturbed in my company once you are back to yourself, InuYasha, and even before the Heat. We have not had trust before intimacy, regrettable yet essential. However, you do not see the lack of options of which we were faced, and now you are ashamed of giving your body to me, and therefore, I am merely attempting to put you at ease by ignoring the fact we have been erotically entwined for the last several days.”
Ears twitch upright, and his face turns red so fast it makes him slightly light-headed, “I ain’t
disturbed.”
“Uncomfortable then.”
“What?! Horseshit.”
The expression on the lord’s face is enough.
“Well, damn....maybe a little, but I got every right to be.” Here, Sesshomaru opens his mouth to speak, possibly to defend his actions or whatever, but InuYasha doesn’t want to hear it all again. “Look,” he blatantly interrupts and takes a breath, “you saved me, okay. I know it was do or die and do is all ya’ did...yeah, you get what that means. Anyhow...you saved me from my own body trying to kill me.
You. My head’s all wrapped around it, but...I don’t get saved, y’ feel me? It’s weird. Being a hanyou is never knowing what’s comin’ next, an’ my body changes from human to half-demon to crazed-fuckin’-slaughter-everything demon to kinda-on-the-cool-side demon to what the hell ever next. I adapted to just about everything, but with this,” he shrugs a little helplessly, “I dunno yet. I don’t do owing someone my life.”
This little piece makes Sesshomaru lose some of his harsh angles and expression. He moves quickly, putting them chest-to-chest, and focuses his gaze on the hanyou’s. Instead of flinching or of averting the gaze, InuYasha remains solemn even as the demon lord lowers his forehead to rest against his brother’s.
‘...given my freedom to save you.’
How could anyone be pissed off at a guy like him? Jeeze, I’m not made of stone. “You are so incredibly simple at times, little brother. One of God’s special creatures, surely.”
Right. That’s how. “Hey!” The hanyou attempts to move back, but a cool hand on the back of his neck holds him still for their faces to be close.
“No one dictates the actions of another. Not even of master and servant. The master may choose the right path, but the servant chooses the master; I chose to give my body to you, and in turn, you chose to give your body to me. Choice is not something you may repay, InuYasha. As I have asserted,
several times, saving you has been my goal all along and it is now time to build the trust between us. It is...unsettling...when you are not your normal self.” Finally releasing him, Sesshomaru straightens and stands aside for the two to start walking again. InuYasha’s give a cheeky grin, folds his hands in his sleeves and starts with his normal strides, fast enough to keep up with his brother’s longer legs.
“...It was still weird.” Said so quietly, the demon lord barely catches it.
“Explain.”
“Explain what?”
“Why it is strange for you. Perhaps discussion may aid in your acceptance.”
“Weh—I, uh. Yeah, okay then.” Goddamm heat in his face. “I mean, we did that, and it was good an’ all, but what does that mean? For us? It’s done and over with, right?”
A sculpted brow rose and the demon lord’s gaze cuts over. Ah, he is still embarrassed yet. Face red and fingers fiddling with his sleeve. How tedious. What was done cannot be undone, but the possibility of InuYasha just taking off rather than deal with their intimacy is a very real. Certainly, he would come up with some excuse, “
I gotta go to the borderlands, bunch fighting breaking out, so I’m gonna go do what I can. I’ll—come back at some point.” But, the result would be the same, Sesshomaru watching the flash of red and white blur back into the wilds.
“I would not have forced your compliance and taken your virginity had it not been life-threatening, little brother. You are aware that siblings in the demon world may mate with one another, that it is not a strange practice as in the human world; however, I would hope,” the cunning politician glibly asserts, “if I find myself without aid during my own Heats, you would see fit to accommodate me as I have you. Yet, other than that circumstance, I do not believe you know how to feel about me as of now. There are still too many past aggressions for your comfort, understandably. I would prefer we learn to be brothers before we discuss the possibility of more. Is this assessment agreeable to you, InuYasha?”
Finally, the hanyou looks over at him, both solemn.
Possibility of more? But, he doesn’t want to ask that just yet. Naw, he can see what Sesshomaru is saying without the guy actually coming out with it—he needed more time to make decisions about tomorrow and the next day. “Yer really serious about the brotherly thing? Keh. Here I thought you were the Ice Princess, that you got no instincts ‘er anything.” The joke fell flat after everything, his brashness just covering up the pansy-ish feeling coming out of Sesshomaru’s mouth.
“But, yeah. Least I can do is help you out if it comes down to it. Not a big deal,” but he lightly shudders at the thought of that naked flesh against his own, of their mouths and tongues, of pleasure and heat...
Not gonna think about it that much.
Seriously head, cut it the fuck out. “You wanna try this brother thing, then like I said, I’ll stay for a while.”
Something in that tone catches the lord’s interest, “still, InuYasha, you have reservations about returning to the palace?”
“I dunno. I guess part of it is this not knowing what’s waiting for me all around.” Too fresh are the scars of his past. The hanyou is no fool, scent marker or not, living among nobles as a half-breed is not going to be an easy journey. Some will rise up once it’s known he’s been given his title back. Inevitably, people are going to be pissed.
“I’m not that good with change, so, y’ know, just waiting to see what next. ”
“Until you are comfortable or find a niche in the ruling of the West, we shall take our relationship day-by-day. You may eventually find that I am not so heartless as you believe me to be.”
Too quick, before he can block it, the image intrudes upon the hanyou’s mind: that small smile, a minute change to be sure but a world of effect on his brother’s carved features. The warmth he’d never in all his years thought he would see.
“Keh,” InuYasha fumbles, “day-by-day then. It’ll be nice to get used to things before I gotta worry about wandering around the country side anyhow.”
“...’Get used to things’?”
“Everything...is different. Now that I’m in the open, it’s easier to tell.”
“Of what difference do you speak?” Gently, the demon lord prods to see how hard struck his brother is with his expanded skills and purposely ignores this ‘wandering the country’ remark. He purposely does not speak of the spiritual power the hanyou demonstrated before, just waiting for the younger inu to come to him with questions. Sesshomaru is in hopes they may build some kind of bridge, a tentative trust in which they could train the hanyou to harness these conflicting powers. Perhaps even weave them as mages and mikos.
The hanyou, still focused on the path before them, answers without holding back. “My senses are sharper, clearer. I can smell all the way to the Western Palace.”
"Hn."
Imagine what would happen were those beads to be removed... But the demon lord wisely remain silent on the matter. He did not miss the reminiscent (even fond) tick of his brothers-the need to rub the smooth claws and it was a subject he would have to broach carefully once the trust between them becomes more powerful.
Instead, his smooth voice fills in the hanyou's unasked questions, "The true power of your youkai has been unlocked, and as it is with many in the nobility, you will need time to explore this expansion of your power; it will change the way your track, the way you hunt, and the way you fight. It is not something to take lightly, but rather to train it as with a sword. You must make this new power like an extension of yourself."
“It was the same with your brother when the Trial was finally over.”
Perk, twitch, perk. Yes, the ears swivel and twitch in Sesshomaru’s direction, the motion caught out of the corner of his eye.
“My true power, or my true form, did not manifest after my first Heat. In fact, it was a great deal later, when Father came to remove me from the wilds.”
“No shit? You didn’t grow into a massive dog right in the middle of... y’know?”
The demon lord’s shocked face is disturbing but hilarious at the same time.
“I mean, I’d feel sorry as hell for the poor bitch.” Shrugging, the hanyou keeps right on walking, pinching his lips so he isn’t grinning.
“I believe you are making a joke at my expense, little brother.”
“You
believe? Well hell yeah I am, but that shoulda been reeeal easy to tell. Anyhow, why did your powers kick in way after? Most demons that survive the first one come out strong, faster.” All right then. Big brother wanted to talk, get some of the tension out in the open. Fine. The hanyou’ll humor him.
“This is true. However, my mother, who you have met, is a practitioner of more than just demonic magic—and she used her talents to bind my true form and power. During my own trial, I was no more physically strong than you, perhaps weaker still. My first Heat did not change that.”
Something in the hanyou’s chest gives him a pang; the cold lord knew more about living as a halfling than InuYasha realized. Well, sure being an exile sucked, but as powerful as a daiyoukai is, it couldn’ta been all that bad, right? Apparently, it was for Sesshomaru.
“So? What happened when your Heat struck?”
“...I survived. However, when she released the spell, it took nearly seventy years to truly acclimate to my senses and strengths, especially once I took up the sword.” In his mind, the lord returns to the dojo, standing across from his great father, a soulless, deficient, devil towering over him with the scent of earth and the same tinge of cinnamon as InuYasha. He remembers moving, remembers raising the bent practice sword, losing his precarious balance with speed he’d never before known...and falling flat on his face, almost piercing his own chest in the fall. Only the Taisho’s hand saved him from being impaled.
“Do not bind yourself with the limitations of the past. You are faster and stronger than before; embrace this change, my son.” “Seventy years? Damn...” Would it really take him that long or not so much since he was only a hanyou? The power difference couldn’t have been a crazy difference like Sesshomaru coming into the powers of a daiyoukai...right? But the hanyou has a brief flash of memory, being under water with two demons pulling at him from either side with their claws in him and that pressure swelling up in his chest before a golden burst of light almost blinded him. His view of bastards holding Shippo, with his youkai as one rather than two separate entities—both in agreement: asses needed to be kicked and revenge for the kit had to be taken. The shockwave of power again and again...his own steam beating his enemies without even using the sword. It had all been just him.
“Hn. Mastering one’s self is the greatest battle.”
Just as Father told me, more than once. Control, discipline, things that make an honorable ruler. “...I guess.” Shaking himself, the hanyou clears his throat a little, “who taught you? To handle a sword, I mean? One of the generals or something?”
“After hunting me most of my existence, Father took it upon him self to train me in the ways of the sword. He alone knew my strengths and weaknesses and could train your brother with discipline and restraint. He was the best teacher I have ever known.”
“But...you hated him until he met my mother, right?”
“Hate? Very much, little brother. I hated the Inu no Taisho for quite some time after he lashed me with his tail and brought me to the Elders for my freedom. I even attempted to leave the Western Palace several times only to have him come for me immediately.”
“How did he get you to stay put?”
“...as I have told you, he created a dojo for my personal use and made a bargain for my presence. As long as I would agree to stay in the West, he would continue to train me well, and possibly to become the most feared daiyoukai in the land. He knew precisely why I strayed to the path of conquest—just as he had done to unite the kingdoms of the West. I wanted
power, strength, and to never be helpless again should I be forced to return to exile at any moment.”
“So, you didn’t trust him?” Ear perks, and he is slightly horrified at this revelation (not that the bastard hadn’t already told him he and the old man didn’t see eye-to-eye until his mother came into the picture). He had always thought Sesshomaru worshipped the old dog, heart and soul, from all the slurs he’d thrown like knives. Finding out the opposite was really true kinda made the hanyou’s heart skip a beat in sympathy. Well, that and he kinda understood where Sesshomaru was coming from. The words resonate within him, a similar sentiment that he feels as well. Maybe he and the bastard weren’t so different after all.
“I would not risk his betrayal. Too much had happened between Father and I. Only when he brought the Lady Izayoi to the West could I believe in him, for why would he allow someone so dear to him to be near me if he did not speak true about bringing our family together? Later, when her womb began to swell with you, why would he allow my presence when he hoped to accomplish my downfall or for you to take my place as the heir to the West? In this way, my path slowly changed, and after his passing, after you and your mother were forced to return to her kin, I no longer sought the same end even though I had no choice but to follow the means.”
InuYasha mentally shifts through those words, interpreting more than Sesshomaru said on the surface. The softness of his tone held a wealth of things the hanyou could not only hear, but could pick out the warbles of that dulcet tone to find the depth of emotion the icy lord never showed.
“Well...Then, I’m glad she got to meet you.”
Sesshomaru hikes a brow, but the hanyou isn’t looking at him—instead, there is a softness to the hanyou’s face that has never really been present before.
“She...she was kind, even to the family that hated her—hated
us—but she still kept her dignity, no matter what others said behind her back or did to her. She never lost her backbone.” His voice when speaking of his mother is fleeting, like the wind carries them away after reaching Sesshomaru’s ears. He speaks in chopped sentences, the speed and abruptness to try avoiding the painful reality of her death. “And, you know, she taught me
some stuff. I mean, I can read and write, not well ‘cause I didn’t have to do it much to survive, but I’m not a complete dumbass. I know the layout of the land, just not in the West. Until the last few years, I never stepped over the border. Only reason I did after...Kagome left is ‘cause I heard screaming from that village in trouble.”
“...Your mother was also exceptionally powerful for a human.” Sesshomaru unconsciously moves closer to his brother, their shoulders inches from brushing.
“Jiji once said she was more than she seemed. Not just a regular noble lady, but that there was a reason she wasn’t outright killed or forced to kill herself when she came back with me.” The hanyou’s eyes narrow into slits, “and for the old man to take a liking to her, I always thought there was more.”
“Mm. Correct. The lady, similar to the mikos of which you have previously been draw, had incredible spiritual powers. Ones that allowed her to survive her trials with our family and her own.”
It is then that the hanyou looks over, ”
my mother? How come she didn’t finish off the old man when the met or some shit? Shouldn’t she have fried his ass when he fell out of that tree?”
“Your brother asked her the very same question, actually,” Sesshomaru’s gaze is distant, roving over the high mountains before them; in his mind’s eye, the demon lord sees her sitting in Father’s office with her rounded belly and striking kimono—soft, sweet jasmine imprinting the picture of her face smiling at him while the Inu no Taisho sat at his desk, holding her hand with tender fingers... His father’s smile and hers’, laughter for the first time in his long and miserable existence. He found himself laughing with them, the sound rusty and unfamiliar.
“Well?”
“Apparently Father looked so utterly pitiful that she decided someone should have mercy on him. She claimed he made the most wretched noises of a wounded animal so that she had no reason to be wary.”
“Keh. Sounds like her,” the hanyou smiles.
“Yes. It is apparent you have inherited her spiritual power... I am somewhat surprised it has taken this long to manifest within you, little brother, or how you are managing to control it while still be in the form of a half-demon. Perhaps Kenshin may be able to shed more light upon the matter.”
“The old fox seems all right.” The hanyou says quietly, “that, uh, that blast thing I did was kinda cool. Like my own version of the wind scar.”
Ah. Finally. “Effective, indeed, however dangerous.” A casual observation, but the demon lord doesn’t want to come off lecturing. As he will have to do someday as a Lord of the West, he wants to see more about how the hanyou thinks.
“Whaddaya mean dangerous?”
“The balance you will have to maintain within yourself is precarious, little brother. It is truly a narrow precipice of which you are walking a fine line. Until you understand this balance, you are a danger to yourself and others. You may just purify other demons around you without so much as a thought or purify yourself in the middle of battle.”
The hanyou gives a half-assed shrug, “I already got that shit down. No problem. That’s why I ain’t in my human form—that time on Mt. Haukurei threw enough spiritual energy at me to know how to handle it. I suppose that arrow in my chest for fifty years helped out, too.”
Of course. If his new spiritual ability was truly detrimental (or the balance between this new crazy power and his demonic energy) then his little brother would simply turn human. “I recall that sacred barrier. You went inside, did you?”
“Had to back then with the Band of Seven. Worked out okay, though, no permanent damage or anything. I still turn human and back into a hanyou.”
“As I have witnessed. Perhaps, with this very different power, you may find another outlet since you seem to not need Tetsuaiga.”
“I don’t get what ‘another outlet’ might be.”
“You saw the intricate pattern keeping the sanctuary hidden?”
“Well, sure. You used your youkai to weave a spell. Demon magic, right?”
“Very good, little brother. This is my mother’s craft, and one very few demons even practice. You have proven your ability to other attacks into Tetsuaiga with your own youkai, as with the Adamant Barrage and red Barrier-Breaker, why not attempt to weave your youkai with words rather than a blade or a blast?”
This got the hanyou’s attention, their gold eyes meeting from a few scant feet. “I—never thought about it that way before, I guess. The youkai in my blood was too unpredictable for anything like that shit, y’know. It takes a helluva fight for the Iron Reaver or Blades of Blood to work right anyhow.”
“Hn. I suppose it would. Perhaps after Kenshin tests your youkai, we shall discuss other means you may want to explore.”
InuYasha actually stops walking, staring at his brother with something working behind his golden eyes. To accommodate him, Sesshomaru pauses as well.
“You...really think I could do stuff like that?” The possibilities now seem endless to the hanyou; if he could wield spiritual powers as well as demonic, who knew what other attacks he could devise, who knew if the spiritual stuff would work with Tetsuaiga anyhow? But, didn’t that blast prove he didn’t need the sword the whole time?
“I have much faith in you, InuYasha. You are capable of great things. Hasn’t the ridiculous debacle with the Shikon Jewel proven that to you?”
Asshole has a point. “...Guess so.”
“Well, then. It seems answers also await you in the West.”
“Yeah, I’ll take that for now.” But, in his heart of hearts, the secret part that didn’t believe any of this bullshit, having a home and a place to go after centuries of wandering, is starting to give way just a little more. And the true skeptic the hanyou, InuYasha, has always been is starting to tentatively trust. He glances over at Sesshomaru with something different in his eyes than before.
In response, the demon lord hikes a brow and a small smile makes his lips twitch, “then, as you like, shall we stretch our legs?”
The hanyou grins from ear to ear and simply vanishes. He is a red blur vanishing through the white blanket of hills and bare trees. Sesshomaru gives a huffing breath and takes off as well.
Surprisingly, it takes him a full ten minutes to catch up to InuYasha, of whom is pushing his body to the limits of speed, the sleeves of his fire rat flare behind him like streamers caught in the wind. Sesshomaru can hear his heart beating faster, blood rushing through his veins, chest expanding with breath, and see the idiotically wide grin on the hanyou’s face while he runs. Like this, the wild one is truly free.
III
“Sooo. Well, damn, man.”
Kenshin is scratching behind his ear and looking down at the two pitiful prisoners watching him with wary, haunted eyes. The elder fox feels a pang of sympathy for the twins, but as a soldier, he cannot do shit for their plight—soldiers knew the deal before they even signed up for battle. These two should have known what might happen if they got caught by the opposite side. If they hadn’t been prepared for the possibility of defeat, then they deserved to be right where they ended up, sitting in the Western dungeon with other prisoners just sitting down for a rest, and it was pretty damn good considering the alternative. If he’d been in Sesshomaru’s place, he’d have just cut down the twins without a heartbeat of indecision; two elementals that could possibly tear his castle down around his ears?
Sorry, Xin, but this is going to be a disaster in the making, I can already see it.
“Yes,” Yao replies with a soft sigh, “my two youngest. Badzar and Sarangerel.”
The male with black eyes growls something in the foreigner’s tongue, and Kenshin hikes a brow at the tone, angry and weary at the same time. Shin gives the youth a narrowed stare, upper lip curling off his fangs—an effective snarl makes the younger man look even more wary of a possible beat-down that might come his way. Who knew? Maybe the brat never saw a real demon before.
Xin replies back in that gobbilty-gook of a language and the two look sufficiently cowed for the healer to give them a better once-over.
The boy (well,
man, older than Lord Sesshomaru by a few hundred years) has his father’s dark looks and a fiery temper; the girl is Xin’s spiritual equal, calm and calculating. Neither seem worse for wear, but damn if the kodomoto magic isn’t a huge black hole of youkai-sucking, pain-in-the-ass. The magic itself was originally designed to keep prisoners and slaves under firm control without too much strain on their masters—the right word uttered and the subject is frozen, unable to get away. The magic was later altered for demons, also keeping the slave constantly drained of youkai to keep them meek little servants. On elementals, neither would have the chi needed to call upon and manipulate their token elements. Good for the West, bad for the other guys.
Kenshin has already seen a few others bound with a rosary-like charm (since he’d finally finished seeing the home team, he felt just a bit frisky and decided to come down to the losing side), but unlike the two in front of him, the majority weren’t hardened or extremely powerful even without the talisman. Hell, most of ‘em were naught more than children just growing into their powers. Spoke of the desperation of the attack. Too many young and not enough battle-hardened leaders.
Well, it might have been smart for those fools to divide and conquer the land, sending bands of others sailing around the mainland to the other kingdoms while other pockets of resistant took through the wilds, but they must not have realized how many spies abound in the land—well, that and the roving bands of demon and human mercenaries. As the next advisor in line for administration, Kenshin had been overseeing the running of the lands and reports of other goings on. He’d been a busy fox in the week it had taken for the war to be done and over with, but worse, even when Xin got back with the army—
without the lords—he’d to keep up with double-duty, healer and head demon-in-charge, doling out tasks and trying to make sure the lands ran as smoothly as possible. His luck, a handful of missives had arrived sporadically to detail these invaders all over the damn place. Two bands had been completely torn apart by animalistic demons a few miles from a human village in the second providence; damn demons probably just wanted a good meal. Another set of a few small ships met the same fate from some water goddess, and the lords of the other lands sent him several messages of other captured foreigners. It seemed things on a large scale had come together without the lords in attendance (not that he and Xin had ever had trouble before). He would have nothing but positive things to report to Lord Sesshomaru.
A few minor details still had to be worked out: one ‘em was the kit and wolf upstairs enjoying the hospitality of the West. Kenshin knew the Wolf Prince in reputation, but the kit was one he had seen to personally after hearing the Lord had ordered the younger fox return to the West. The shoulder and arm had been healing well and quickly for such a young squirt, but the kit’s youkai hadn’t been the average trickster. Most little one’s his age should still be in the den being coddled and spoiled by his parents; maybe getting ready to start in the academy to learn the literal tricks of the foxes’ legacy. Not often did one see an orphan fox, not when relatives or friends always welcomed a new kit into the fold. Seeing this Shippo stand alone, a babe centuries younger than Shin’s own kits, made him grudgingly wander down the halls outside the young one’s room so the scent of fox may ease him somewhat.
Now, after days of getting the soldiers settled, fed, intelligence reports read and replied, prisoners tagged, weapons stored, and soldiers from the other lands sent back home is he actually able to see where his friend has been wandering. Bastard has been coming here to check on his grown children, leaving the majority of duties to the over-worked healer.
“All right, then. You tell ‘em to show me their injuries and not to bother attacking. They try it and I’ll drop ‘em both like kits.” Trying to look intimidating, the fox folds his massive arms over his chest and give a right good glare while Xin relays the message.
To his surprise, the female is the one that gives him a critical once-over, searching for something in his face. What she was looking for, he didn’t know. Maybe it was the scars that littered his face and hands, a testament to all the lot of fucked-up he’d seen in his many years, and if she knew about their kind, she knew very few demons had scars.
Tentatively, her slightly shaky hand reaches out and turns over, showing dried blood on her sleeve and a wicked gash raking up to split the soft skin of her forearm from wrist to elbow. She had apparently tried to wrap it as best she could to avoid massive blood-loss, but probably hadn’t done anything to protect against infection. Kenshin kneels swiftly, bag already swinging from around his shoulders to pull out fresh bandages and a poultice; if she and her brother were like their sire, the twin Elementals wouldn’t have the impressive immunities against infection and sickness of demons but be susceptible to such things as humans. Sure, they healed faster but could still be felled by disease.
Shin opened his special container and the scent of pine wafted cool and clean over the stench of sweat, dried blood, and defeat. The female didn’t look away as the fox’s clawed hand reaches for her; her brother, on the other hand, only sees immediate danger and grabs her arm first, eyes narrowing in distrust.
“Don’t piss around with me, cub!” The fox snaps; regardless, Badzar refuses to relinquish his hold on his sister.
Instead, the younger male holds out a hand for the concoction, brows drawn together. He and the fox have a moment of shared understanding and Shin relinquishes the container of white goo. Suspiciously, Badzar sniffs the unfamiliar poultice and rubs a small amount on his own hand as if to test it. After a few moments, he seems satisfied that it is not poison, and hurriedly unlaces his sister’s arm guards. Ignoring his traitorous sire and this battle-worn demon, Badzar speaks softly to Sarangerel while un-wrapping her make-shift bandage. He has to peel off the encrusted layers while clucking a tongue at her.
Yao catches the eye of a healer’s aid returning with fresh, steaming water and beckons the raccoon over. Bright-eyed a bushy-tailed, the young aid is new to the aftermath of war and is excited to put his skills to use to help the injured soldiers. He hurries toward the wise advisor, weaving around groups of prisoners also being seen to, and bows low as he reaches them. Unfortunately, he’s a clumsy little shit and almost falls over with the force of his bow. The water in his bucket sloshes precariously.
“Mi lord!”
“Yeah, yeah. Bring it over here, kid.” Shin already has bandages out and accepts the water.
“Of course, Healer Kenshin!”
Too damn happy about life. Shaking his head, Kenshin wets a clean cloth and glances back at the progress of the twins.
Both are staring at the raccoon with wide eyes, all movement momentarily paused at the warm and comforting aura of the newcomer. The kid gives a happy wave at the two and just notices the crusty bandages from the female’s wounded arm. He gasps and kneels by Badzar, eyes for all that dried blood before looking up at the two of them.
“That looks pretty serious!” He leans closer to look at the torn skin with obvious concern, hands reaching for the clean cloth in Shin’s hand without even glancing at the healer.
Surprisingly, neither twin rebukes his efforts as he gingerly cleans the dried blood and dips a few fingers into the salve still in the male’s hand. He gives the female an “I’m sorry about this” expression before gently applying the goop to her torn skin. He almost asks Healer Kenshin if they should stitch the wound with sinew, but the hostile aura makes him change his mind. He simply takes fresh bandages and wraps the forearm tight but not too tight to impede the healing process.
The raccoon looks over his should at Shin, and the fox agreeably looks at the bandage job.
“Good wrap, Tanku. We might get you to be a decent healer yet.” Not to mention his happy-go-lucky attitude made the two more docile for treatment.
Beaming, the young demon smiles so wide his face might crack, “Thank-you, sir!”
He looks back at the two with a huge grin and takes out a fresh length of bandage to put in Badzar’s hands. Putting on a stern face, the raccoon wags a finger at the female, “this will need re-bandaged twice a day! You don’t want to loose your arm because of infection, do you? No, no, no, that’s very bad. How are you gonna eat without an arm, am I right? Well, no matter, follow my instructions and you’ll be much better in a few days, okay?”
The two just stare at him.
“They don’t speak our language, kid. Xin’ll tell ‘em what for. You just come back tomorrow and see how the wound is doing.”
“Yes, sir, I will, sir!” The raccoon actually salutes him before giving the two a wave and darting off to help out more of the wounded.
“A ray of sunshine,” Yao smirks.
“Yup. Like it’s coming out his ass or something. Who knows? All right,” Shin stands, dusting his knees and picks up his bag. He holds out the top of his container to Badzar, waiting.
No fool to trickery, the young male gingerly reaches out for it and quickly snatches his hand back.
“For the time being, let’s get some food down here for them. Not that the prisoners deserve it, but Lord Sesshomaru would be pissed if these fuckers starved to death before he could interrogate any of ‘em.”
Xin sighs at his children and simply says, “I will return to check upon you later.” With a heart of stone, he follows Kenshin out of the dungeon where other prisoners were being chained together and tended. The numerous guards bow to them as they take the stairs up three floors before reaching the ground floor of the palace. It’s just like the old fox to keep his jaw tightly closed; he is not a demon of impulse.
The two make their way across the courtyard grounds to the dining hall, nodding to various servants, guards, and guests of the West. Kenshin finally starts catching his friend up with the ruling side while they stride down the great halls.
“...so we have more to be concerned about than we first imagined.”
“Seems that way. No counting how many have been sneaking in for the past two decades, posing as merchants or migrant workers, but it’s been their Khan’s plan from the start. Why not breed an army on our own shores? Long time in the making but pretty damn smart all the same.”
“Damn...” Yao pushes open the door to the informal dining room; their situation may be more extensively worrisome than they all originally believed. If the Mongolians had been gathering in for years, having children, living among the people, waiting for the right time to strike, then the outbreak of riots could be worse than what the shoguns overlooking each terroritory could handle without help from the Western army. This might have been an epic strategic move.
Hurry back, my lords. We may need your skills sooner than later. The two spot Prince Kouga and the kit, Shippo, and leave the subject for now.
“Oi! Great grub today,” with a toothy grin, the wolf holds up a huge drumstick almost picked clean. Both advisors laugh a bit, remembering their own days as young, cocky demons such as he and take seats across the table.
“Cook will be pleased with your assessment, Lord Kouga.”
The bushy kit, no longer wound in bandages, interrupts the greeting, “any word of InuYasha yet?”
“I am afraid not, little one. I do not suspect he is in any danger, not while Lord Sesshomaru is his travelling companion.” Remaining cordial, Yao Xin gives nothing away as an excuse why the lords are so far behind the Western army to return. Only he and a handful of guards have any notion of the younger lord’s approaching Heat, but only he knew Lord Sesshomaru would personally help him, ah “take care” of the situation. Given the younger lord is a hanyou, Yao has no idea how long it will take for the heat to die down—the two could be gone for a full moon cycle. Who knew?
“Don’t worry yourself, kit. They’re probably out scouting for more bands of those bastards.” Kenshin leans over and pours himself some tea, “wouldn’t be surprised if they ain’t scoutin’ the land themselves.”
“That sounds like mutt-face, too.” Kouga gives a shrug, food forgotten. “I should be leaving soon, get back to the pack. If they don’t get back in a few days, I’ll have to come by again in the Spring to see how he’s gettin’ along here...I mean. InuYasha is coming back here, right?”
Shippo’s eyes sharpen and his utter infatuation with the delicious food before him fades, his shoulders slumping slightly. He’d probably go back to the village if Kouga decides it’s time to hightail it out, but...he at least wants to see InuYasha once more before he goes back to Miroku and Sango. Just once. But maybe...maybe he could scout on their way through the land...do something brave for the Western lands.
“I am most certain Lord InuYasha will return with Lord Sesshomaru,” Xin looks over at the suddenly depressed kitsune. “If you were to leave before they return, I’m certain Lord InuYasha will be most disappointed. Surely we could send a message to your pack, Lord Kouga?”
“...Well. I’m not gonna wait around forever for dog-breath to show, but I think we can give him a few more days.”
“Good to hear, milord. Besides, I’m certain Rin would be most distraught if her new favorite playmate had to leave so suddenly.”
Shippo huffs a sigh, “oh come on. Rin and I aren’t kids or anything. She’s almost fourteen now!”
“Indeed, kit. Yer no baby, and the young lady is certainly growing into a woman. But, that young female has never had a childhood to speak of, followin’ the lord around and such. Your presence is soothing to her and I see no reason why you shouldn’t be able to play if you so wanted.”
Yao nods in agreement with that assessment and picks up that Kenshin has taken a shine to the kit and perhaps might like another apprentice underfoot. From what he stated earlier, Yao has no reason to believe Lord Sesshomaru would return alone. The hanyou prince would be at his side, and finally the two would have rule of the kingdom.
“All right, then. We’ll stick around. Never know, we might geta chance to be in battle after all, eh Shippo?” Kouga winks at the kid and the kitsune’s smile comes back with the anticipation that they might still be in the ranks.
“I think we’ll be secure here,” Shin swats the concern away as the cook’s aids come out with more plates for the advisors.
The wolf’s eyes narrow, “there are more of those ass-hairs running around the land. My father’s already taken out a few bands of rioters in the North. So’s you meaning to tell me you think this is over with just one battle?”
Kenshin glances to his right, but Yao is stroking his shorter fu Manchu. “All the lords have sent their own spies to check for uprisings, and we in the West are prepared to return to war. Our arsenal has been restocked, and the only thing we wait for is our lord’s approval to move out through the land.”
Kouga blinks at their efficiency, “so...” he lowers his voice, “ya think their Khan is really here?”
Likewise, the fox answers instead, voice low so as to not catch the other staff taking a lunch break, “what better way to make a stand than for the leader to already be here, waiting for everything to fall into place?”
“...The Khan is ruthless, the same as his predecessors; however, it seems he is quite a patient strategist.” Yao Xin’s demeanor changes and the foreigner is suddenly very serious. “We may have underestimated him, but more reports will tell us by how much.”
“We got some pretty strong forces on our side,” Shin counters when the kit’s face hardens, “we’ll give ‘em Hell either way. Ah! I’m starvin’.”
The scent of warm stew and rice touches his nose as the young serving girls from earlier make their way to the table. Meanwhile, the soft scent of soap and girl makes Shippo’s (for some weird reason) heart speed up just a little, and he looks up at the cute serving girl beside him serving Kenshin. After leaving the stew, she feels his eyes and turns.
“Oh! I am sorry, sir, would you care for more? Or some dessert, perhaps?”
Instantly, his face turns beet red. He can feel the heat in his cheeks and gets even more embarrassed. “N-naw. I’m okay, thanks though.” He ducks his head only to glance back at her under the cover of his bangs.
“As you will, sir.” She leans over him to collect his empty plates with her warm smile...and accidentally brushes the side of one breast against his forearm.
The kit’s eyes fly open wide and he nearly chokes. The girl (completely oblivious) lifts his plates with a questioning look and her head cocked to the side. “Are you in need of water, sir?” She is slightly concerned with how red his face is! Is he running a high fever?!
Mortified, Shippo draws in a breath, “n-no thanks. I’m good, seriously.”
She hears the faint mumble and looks at the wolf beside him. Lord Kouga is giving the poor little kit a quirked brow... and then takes a sniff. He comes very close to slapping a hand over his mouth to keep the laughter in, but forcefully schools his face.
“He’s good,” with a rueful grin, the wolf prince takes pity on the poor kid and leans around him to draw her attention away. “Just healing up good after all the fighting.”
She gasps, hands flying to her face, “oh, my lord! Were you terribly injured?”
Shippo clears his throat quietly, and straightens a bit, “just a few bruises, nothing much to show for it.”
“But for one so young as yourself, sire, how brave you must be!”
One so young?! Jeeze, really? She leans down with a warm smile still in place and raised a hand...to pat the top of his goddammed head.
“You are about my little brother’s age, sir. You must be so strong to fight with the men!”
Her brother’s age?! ...damn. “Uhh. Yeah. Thanks.”
“Of course, sir!” She turns to Kenshin’s (who immediately wipes the amused look off his face), “and what else may I get for you, Healer Kenshin?”
He holds up a hand, “all good here, Mizu. Thanks.”
“Of course! Call if you need anything further, milords!” With a flourish, she strides off, wiggling a cute little bottom with bushy tail in her wake.
Unable to help himself, Shippo watches that tail bounce every step of the way.
Xin audibly clears his throat and the kit snaps back to attention. An awkward pause lasts no longer than seconds and the three elders are ass-deep in belly laughs. Sputtering helplessly and even redder than before, Shippo denies anything and finally throws himself to the side, shoving his hands in his kimono sleeves (reminiscent of a certain someone) and throws his nose up in the air. Nothing seemed to calm the insatiable laughing, all directed at him. The real bitch was, he didn’t have clue one what the hell they were all laughing at in the first place!
“Bastards, and I mean the lot of you.” He takes to his feet with a “Feh!” and heads out of the dining hall, back straight and shoulders squared. It’s fine anyway, the kit thinks furiously to himself. He’d already spent some time wandering the great halls of the palace just to see how many rooms and corridors and places might be hidden in the multiple floors made out of a mountain. C’mon, he’s a fricking fox for crying out loud, the joker of the demon world. He would have to know where all the good hiding spots are and where the jerks of the castle lived just so he could give ‘em a good scare before they had to go, right? He’d had enough time at the Kitsune Academy to learn a few tricks and even modify some of ‘em to be pretty dangerous. Better tricks than his spinning top or meager fox fire could ever be. With twenty minutes to plan and place, he could execute a damn good trick.
With his smug grin back in place, the kit meanders his way down the guest hallway, knowing his scent is already there and no one would think it suspicious he was in this wing. He passed a few maids that were carrying piles of linens to go to the washroom and made sure not to make eye contact so they would just ignore his presence and not wonder why he was back up here so early in the day. Usually by this time, he would sneak in to an always empty dojo hidden back in a corner in the second floor, right above a nice zen garden. It gave him a peaceful feeling to sit and mediate or work on his moves with a staff or practice sword, running through his paces in silence, only his own breathing echoing in his ears.
Maybe later... with a glance over his shoulder, all the maids are already past him, and he unobtrusively opens the door to Kouga’s room wide enough that he just slides in without a sound. No one sees the look of utter mischief on his face.
IV
“My love? Please! OW! No, no, not that! YEEE-OUCH. Ah, gods, you’re killing me!”
“Nothing less than you deserve, pervert! Look at what you taught
my son!”
The angry taijiya shoves soap into her husband’s mouth with more force than necessary and gives his silver tongue a once, twice, and thrice over. In her fist is a hunk of dark hair keeping his head over the wash basin so she can indeed give his foul mouth a good and much needed scrubbing.
“P-please, my love!” The monk manages to sputter through soap spewing from his mouth.
Agitated, she finally releases his hair and stands back to glare down at him. Their hut, cozy and warm, is ever growing, just as their family is. With three children and the former demon slayer round with the fourth, they have already added on two rooms as well as one just for storing weapons. In the area sectioned off for preparing meals, however, while Sango was in the middle of cooking the evening’s dinner, her nearly four-year old son came up to her and solemnly stated Suki (his little playmate from the village) refused to bare his young and slapped him in the face.
Her temper went from a cool zero to red hot murderous in less than a second. She gingerly spanked the child and explained to him why saying such things to a girl was very wrong. He was only a baby himself and had so much time before he would even have to worry about taking a wife and having offspring of his own. The weeping child seemed to understand where his mother was coming from and apologized, promising to also apologize to Suki in the morning. Hopefully, she would still play with him sometimes.
But, it all comes to a full circle. Ending with the monk spewing out soap and the demon slayer spewing out curses.
“And I swear, Miroku, if that boy inherits his father’s ‘cursed hand,’ I will use the worst demon herbs out there and you’ll be in the outhouse for a week. Argh, how can one man be so infuriating!”
Rinsing the horrid taste through her tirade, the monk in questions finally settles away from the wash basin and stares at his pregnant wife.
“Please, Sango. Calm down if only for the babe’s sake.” He gives a little sigh, already used to her fluctuating moods while with their young. It’s not like he didn’t know what he was getting himself into when he finally begged the slayer to make an honest man out of him; not only had Sango proven herself to be one of the strongest humans the monk had ever met, but she also had the biggest heart. Even with moments like this, he would never regret building a family with her. “I’m sorry, my love. I swear it will never happen again.”
Still red-faced, she gives a huff to blow her bangs out of her eyes. She opens her mouth to retort but no sound comes out. Her head turns with a jerk, one hand instinctively coming up to cover her growing abdomen.
The monk is on his feet by her side in an instant, the taste in his mouth immediately forgotten. His arms hold her close when the chill runs up his spine. A familiar chill, a warning that has saved his measly hide more than once.
“Demon,” hisses through Sango’s teeth. She starts to move out of his embrace, her automatic reaction to pick up her hiraikotsu and get ready for battle. She has to protect her family, her children, her husband, but more so, she has to protect the demon slayer village this time—she won’t allow the ground to be littered with bodies again, to bury everyone she’d ever loved again.
Miroku’s arms stop her, spin her to look in his very serious eyes. “No. Go signal the alarms, but you will
not leave this house. Do you understand me, wife?”
She draws in a breath, he interrupts.
“Do you understand, Sango? Stay inside with the children.” As easy-going as the former Miroku had been, the father and husband had moment like this, when it seemed he had a male complex to protect the women and children. His eyes are totally uncompromising.
Finally, her throat tight, she nods. The two, even five years after the hard years of constant battle were over, still move like warriors—eliminate the threat, protect the weak, fight the good fight—and part for the monk to face whatever may come and taijiya to sound the alarm bell on the side of their home.
Miroku moves through his home, ducks into his corner of the main room, picks up his now-dry ofudos and shakujo—the trademark jingle ominous. He’s out the door and moving with purpose, closer to that oncoming demon aura.
In the five years they have resided in the village, more than fifteen families have come to join them in rebuilding. The whole compound is still protected by high walls made from thick logs tied together with the gate heavy and difficult to move for even a run-of-the-mill demon. It is in this direction the monk is heading, drawn directly to the approaching demonic aura.
Not a mindless, low-level demon or a vengeful spirit. This one is dangerous and powerful. Clatter as others open their shoji or door flaps to start congregating behind the determined monk. A heartbeat later and the warning bell goes off, the clang echoing through the sudden silence. Feet crunch in the fresh snow, weapons are ready, and the single, electric tension in the air is almost on top of them.
Coming mere feet from the gate, Miroku absently rubs the spot on his chest where the sacred sutras sit in his pocket before both hands grip the shakujo, and he takes one cleansing breath.
This state of existence is but a temporary one... Behind him, the slayers prepare themselves for the attack.
...Instead, there is a polite knock on the gate.
The monk starts and glances back at the other slayers crowded behind him with blades, scythes, knives, and all manner of weaponry at the fore. The closest warrior, Daiki, one of the better fighters hikes a brow at the monk in return. He shrugs without speaking and Miroku nods.
“Who is it?” He calls cordially.
“Akihiro, sir! I am a messenger of Lord Sesshomaru, ruler of the Western Lands. His guests, Prince Kouga of the Northern Wolf Tribe and his companion, Shippo, have entrusted me to find the demon slayer, Sango, and her husband, the Monk Miroku.”
“How am I to know you are who you say?”
“...Well, sir. The Prince told me to call the monk a ‘lecher the like of which have never been seen before.’”
Ten pairs of eyes swing to focus in on said pervert. With a self-suffering sigh, the monk merely replies, “you have found the Monk Miroku and his wife.”
“And how can you prove you are who
you say you are, sir?”
The monk seems to consider this, “I suppose I could purify you on the spot. That would prove I’m a monk, wouldn’t it?”
“I-I suppose so, but then I couldn’t take a reply back to the prince, sir.”
“Ah, how bothersome. Well, the demon slayers will let me through to receive your message. Please do not attack or I will have to prove I am who I say.”
“Understood!”
The demon slayers give the monk a look as if wondering whether or not he had simply lost his mind. Miroku held up a hand and gestures to the gate. Five of the muscular demon slayers put away their weapons and man the gate while the others remain armed, ready to strike at the first hint of trouble.
Calmly, the monk waits for the gate to crack open and slips through. His gaze true, he starts when there is no demon in front of him.
“Down here!”
Four and a half feet tall is a young lynx demon, smiling up at him with an absurdly baggy outfit. Standing tall, the little one lifts a hand in greeting, and gives a proper, low bow.
“Greetings, Monk Miroku.”
A huge grin splits his face, “greetings Akihiro! My...what a powerful demonic aura you have!”
The youngster straightens with a grin, “actually, the aura is coming from the message. Lord Kouga’s travelling companion sent a scroll, too. He just put a trick on it so other demons would let me be. Pretty smart, huh?”
The monk’s eyebrow give an audible twitch, “Shippo?”
Little prankster! He knew the village would be up in arms. He was annoyingly cute when he was young. “That’s the fox.” After a moment of rooting around in his oversized kimono, the lynx brings out two bound scrolls, complete with Kouga’s seal.
“Well, then. I thank you for your hard work. My wife is making dinner if you would like to stay?”
The kitten’s brown eyes began sparkling, “dinner?” He’s already following the monk back through the gates, his little belly rumbling at the sound of food. He’d really booked it to get her as fast as possible since Shippo had been hurt with his arm bound up, and the wolf prince promised him some extra coin. Now, after all that running, he’s hungry enough to eat twice his weight in food.
V
“LOOK OUT! WHAT IN THE SEVEN HELLS
IS THAT THING!”
“...it—it looks like a cow, sir!”
“A WHAT?!”
Unlike your ordinary bovine, this one seemed to be incredibly dexterous, weaving in and out of firing arrows, spears, and demonic energy strikes. With a mild moo, the animal remains rigid and doesn’t buck off the cross-legged old man perched on his back. Seemingly oblivious to the mass of weapons being fired through the air, the old sword maker gets closer to the Western Palace with ease.
Foot soldiers clamber around the battlements, armed and ready to fire as the bovine moves steadily closer.
Orders from the ground are keep the guards firing while Matsu shoves his way through demons at the top most part of the castle; he squints at the oncoming figure and blows an irritated sigh. He turns to the closest demon at his right hand,
“Get the hell down there and tell those fools to stop firing at Lord Sesshomaru’s personal weapons maker! If we harm him, the lord will have our heads.”
The badger, eyes wide at the threat of the lord’s wrath, hurriedly salutes and vanishes. The human turns back to the awaiting soldiers, their eyes on him for orders before the first wave would fly.
“Stand the hell down! We all know who rides a damn cow.”
Some of the demon archers lower their bows with sheepish embarrassment. Soon the defenses knock off as the cow sails through the night. At Matsu’s gesture, the group slits to allow the cow to light down, surrounded but safe. Oddly enough, the rider has slept through the whole thing, a snot bubble bobbing from a nostril in time with the unholy snores. His trademark hammer had become an uncomfortable-looking but functional pillow.
Loudly, Matsu clears his throat. “Totosai.
Totosai-san!”
“Whup, whaa?” Rousing, the old demon blinks around and gives a sniff, “ah, this old back is aching from such a long trip.”
The human general bows at the waist, his men following him in showing respect to the make of the most powerful weapons in history: Tensaiga, Tetsuaiga, and Sou’ung, the circle of life, death, and conquest. However...it was difficult to remain in awe of a bird-like old man riding a three-eyed cow sporting a charred, dirty kimono.
“We are honored to receive you, Totosai-san.”
“Hm, yes.” His look grows absent, “and there was some reason I came all the way here...” He rubs his chin thoughtfully, and someone in the back groaned.
Under his breath, Matsu murmers, “I’m sure there was.” Straightening, he bows again and replies, “In the absence of our lords, please allow us to show you the hospitality of the West. Perhaps a hot bath and dinner may aid in regaining your memory.”
“Oh! Dinner time, eh?”
And a bath! Oh, how long has it been since I had a good bath... This thought accompanied by the little hanyou drawing water and heating the fire. It’s enough to make the weapons-maker blanch and focus more on the promise of dinner. He climbs down from the bovine (earning a snort in annoyance
she wasn’t getting dinner after coming all this way) and shuffles through the gathered, bowing soldiers without a care of them. A miffed moo and the cow is lead away to feast in the stables.
VI
With the skill of a ninja, Shippo eases into his own borrowed room in one wing over from the family chambers. He knew it had to be the next hall over since there were four guards posted outside and further down that he could see with barely a glance. Only one guy was outside the row of studies and official rooms for administration, so that many guards more than likely meant those were the royal families’ chambers. The fox stands by the window, looking out into the courtyard gardens two floors below. A group of children were in a corner, their tutor sitting with back against a tree while they wrote notes on rice paper using brush and ink pots. A few sport demon ears, markings, and fangs while others were more bestial with more animalistic characteristics, but woven intermittently in the fifteen or twenty were six humans, all learning as one.
Normalcy. Blinking, Shippo shoves away from the window and that scene, fighting off dark feelings of jealousy and pain. He’s not a child anymore, and he knows the effect of harboring such ill-will, demons like Naraku were born. So, there’s no point in lounging in those depressing thoughts and emotions, not when he has people out there that love him, want him to succeed, want him to be happy. Even...five hundred years in the future, someone had nothing but good wishes for him. He kneels by his bag of clothing, completely ignoring the sting in his eyes and blurry sensations. Real men did not cry.
An abrupt shake of the head snaps him into movement; he distracts himself by pulling out a set of clothing he used for sparring and concentrated enough to make his bag shrink to the size of a thimble, storing it in the high wardrobe’s top shelf and out of sight. Here, in the Western Palace (of all places) there has to be somewhere quiet and away from everyone, somewhere he can actually
move. Yeah, shouldn’t be that hard to find, not if he follows his nose to the lack of strong scents. Mind made up, Shippo changes with the thoughts of stretching his muscles out now that he’s completely healed and has some time to himself without Kouga around every corner. Sure, he knew the wolf felt bad and stuff, but really, Shippo had been travelling by himself for five years, not too long, but enough that constant people around him was uncomfortable—even at Miroku and Sango’s house! In the quiet of his own (temporary) room, he finally feels like he can think.
Changed, he steals into the hallway, surprised there is no one really running about. In the past few days, he’s noticed servants or guards or someone (
anyone) always about, regardless of the time. Must be time to clean one of the other floor or something.
He takes a right out of his door and catches the faint scent of InuYasha...down the royal family’s wing. It’s a long walk down the huge hallway, the colors of the old Taisho hanging from wall to wall, for him to peek around the corner. Shippo looks and has to do a double-take.
No guards there.
“Hm.” His natural inclination for mischief takes over and he moves without thought (on how pissed off someone might be) down, catching more of InuYasha’s scent from the fancy floor coverings. The hall turns and splits off into two sections, one that smells like storms coupled with something sharp and the other like cinnamon and youkai. InuYasha’s smell is too faint here and Shippo chooses the right, walking right into the youkai. Again, no one is around doing work or going to another part of the castle. Creepily, the scents become fainter, covered with dust and old memories, abandoned. Maybe the last lord, InuYasha’s father, walked these same halls everyday and no one ever came here anymore. Whatever. It’s exactly what he was hoping to find.
The intermediate doors along either wall don’t interest him (he honestly pays no mind). It only when he finds a sliding shoji door, so incredibly out of place in all these closing doors on hinges, that the fox pauses and gives a courteous sniff. The smell he catches through the door is the one he’s been looking for and makes him pause: the scent of sweat, of straining muscles, of metal and wood.
He gingerly slides the shoji open a crack and points one eye to make sure no one else is around.
Clear.
Before anyone comes along, the fox slides into the room with slinking grace and closes the door behind him.
The room is airier than his and more traditional with tatami mats and paper coverings over the stone. Weapon racks line one wall with a carefully catalogued assortment of practice swords, wooden swords, staves of several sizes and weight, and more. The outer wall has another shoji, probably leading out into a private garden. But, clinging to the tiles and paper are distinct scents now that the kit is closer; he moves to the open wall and presses his nose closer to try catching a clear scent of who used this room.
Sesshomaru...and another inu, powerful, older...the General? The kit takes a moment to inhale that scent and finally seems to relax a little in the massive palace. He takes a stance in the middle of the floor and stretches himself out, working his lean muscles in preparation for training. As he does, his vision is filled with pictures of Sango directing him with a sword while her pregnant belly got in the way, then he sees the old fox from school watching the younger kits spar with tricks rather than fists or weapons. He took his turn like the rest, but he’d wanted to learn to really
fight, to take care of himself if his magic ran out or his tricks were ineffective.
Other slayers helped him when Sango got too big, and now he has the basics to hone.
Gracefully, the kit takes a position and moves against his invisible foe, Naraku. He’s not a scared little kid this time around, not going to just hide behind a woman’s skirts while the others do all the work; he moves with fluid grace at oncoming tentacles, ducks bouts of misasma, throws punches, chops, and kicks at damn saimiyosho (
not poisoning Miroku, fuckers!). The battle is
on.
*******
A/N:
New Chapter, yea! My beta, Red, is a godsend, so I wanted to get something posted. Was really hoping to make this chapter double in length but will do it in two parts instead, so I hope it was a bit of a respite from the intense Inu brothers. And finally, thank-you to all my reviewers, followers, and the rest ;) Give me more what you want to see.