The Twelfth Concubine

By: AubreySimone

folder InuYasha › Het - Male/Female › Sesshōmaru/Kagome

Rating: Adult +

Chapters: 39

Views: 20,387

Reviews: 54

Recommended: 3

Currently Reading: 9

Category: InuYasha › Het - Male/Female › Sesshōmaru/Kagome

Rating: Adult +

Chapters: 39

Views: 20,387

Reviews: 54

Recommended: 3

Currently Reading: 9

Disclaimer: The anime/manga Inuyasha belongs to Rumiko Takahashi. The author, Aubrey Simone, makes no money from the writing or posting of this fic.

Circumstances Revealed: Part Two

Chapter Twenty-Seven—Circumstances Revealed [Part Two]

Bleary, mahogany-hued eyes blinked in and out of sight, thin lids fluttering like butterfly wings. A grumbling groan, somewhat more of a growl, rumbled through the air, and the sound prompted a hurried scuffle of movement; tiny hands reached for a pale, clawed appendage; fingers squeezed.

"Aoi-sama…?"

"R-Rin…" The reply was hoarse, questioning, and Rin shifted until she was sure that Aoi could see her.

"We're safe, Aoi-sama," she assured, flitting nervous fingers over scarily pale cheeks.

"Where…" A cough, and Rin reached for the cup of cool water beside the futon, carefully trickling the liquid across dry lips and into a fanged mouth. "Where are we?" Aoi asked when she had finished drinking.

"The home of a Yamazaki Miroku," Rin responded, seeing and nodding at the hint of recognition in Aoi's eyes. "Safe," she reiterated. "We're safe."

A sigh, deep and long, passed Aoi's lips, and she relaxed, whatever tension that had plagued her melting like winter ice. She remained silent for a time, and when she did speak, Rin wished she hadn't. "Have you written Sesshomaru-sama?"

Rin swallowed, nodded; chose her next words very carefully. "Yamazaki-sama sealed and sent it to be delivered…Inuyasha-sama should be back with a reply in a week, at the most."

A steady tick made itself known in a slender jaw. "He…has been here?"

Rin looked away. "Yes."

"Here, when he should have been supporting—" But she stopped, and her body shook as she curled in on herself, one hand clutching at her bandaged abdomen.

"Aoi-sama!" Careful of the demoness's injured shoulder—the linen bandage of which sported a growing spot of blood—Rin grasped at her and tried to uncurl her tight body, settling for rubbing soothingly at the youkai's back when she didn't move. Slowly, and just as Rin had nearly decided to call for the monk, the tight curl loosened, and Aoi lay on her back once again, one hand on her belly and the other shakily wiping sweat from her brow. Tired mahogany eyes searched Rin's face, and then slipped guiltily away.

"I apologize, Rin-chan; I did not mean to worry you."

Rin released a shaky sigh. "It's fine, Aoi-sama."

Aoi nodded. "Now," she murmured, eyes sharpening in the candle-lit room, "tell me what you relayed to Sesshomaru-sama."

Rin nodded.

:..:..:..:..:

It was mid-afternoon when Kagome woke, and as she blinked blearily at the sun-lit ceiling, she allowed her thoughts to wander, senses expanding briefly in search of Kotono's warm youki. It was absent, and Kagome felt a small swirl of relief.

'I don't want to see her…not right now.'

The thought made her uncomfortable, but rather than back away from it, she examined it closely, turning onto her side and tucking a hand beneath her cheek.

It was strange, to think of herself as being sent here, of being seen in a vision that she wasn't sure she wanted to help fulfill. Her as the first? She shook her head. It made no sense, and it would have to mean that she took Kotono's place, that Kotono fell to second, or even lower, and Kagome didn't have the right to do that to the dragoness.

She had only been here for a handful of months, after all, and even that wasn't procured by her own efforts. No, she was here because Kotono had likely told Lord Sesshomaru of her vision; because he believed in Kotono enough to allow another human onto his grounds. 'But I don't want to be here because of that.'

No, she wanted to be here because Sesshomaru wanted her to be here. She wanted to be here because he enjoyed her company and craved her companionship. She wanted to be here because this was what she'd decided for herself, not because it was what the gods decided for her.

Anger at Kotono—for daring to keep her vision a secret—blossomed in Kagome's chest, and she clenched a fist, brow furrowed. 'Why didn't she just tell me?' Kagome wondered. 'Did she want me to feel like this? Did she want me to feel like I was lost all over again?'

A quiet voice insisted that Kotono had done what she thought was best, and Kagome quashed it ruthlessly. There was no room for sympathy right now, no room for compassion and understanding. Maybe later, she reasoned with herself, she would take the time and get her answers, but now?

Now, she was going to make Chiyoko look like the sun.

:..:..:..:..:

Kotono had been prepared for her anger. She had been prepared for the dark light of mistrust; for the stiff shoulders and straight back of hurt. But she had not been prepared for the coldness, and it was the coldness that hurt more than anything.

Discreetly, she glanced down at the petite miko kneeling at the end of the table. Normally expressive eyes glazed over in nonchalance, the human had sat silently through the formal announcement of Lord Sesshomaru's impending fatherhood to his court, and was now sitting just as silently through the celebratory feast being held in the future heir's honor. It was…disconcerting, and Kotono knew she could do nothing about it.

Helplessness didn't sit well with her, and she had to resist the urge to fidget. Fidgeting was not becoming of Lord Sesshomaru's most favored concubine.

'But worry is not above me,' she thought bitterly, forcing her face and her posture to remain still, polite. 'And how could I help it? I have hurt her with my decisions, made her doubt herself and her position…She may never forgive me.'

The thought brought back the urge to move, to shift, and she had to clench her hands in her sleeves to resist the temptation. She could not lose her composure. Not now.

'Or rather,' she amended, glancing toward Kagome again just in time to catch the cool cursory glance that the miko slipped over her, 'not here.'

It was the promise of 'later' that held her together, and as she stood to make the farewell speech at the end of the night—a task she had eagerly accepted, knowing that Sesshomaru wasn't one for speeches—she was proud to note that her voice was steady and her hands didn't shake quite as badly as she thought they would have.

As everyone filed out, the formality in the dining hall fading to easy camaraderie, Kotono forced herself to catch Kagome's slowly wandering eyes. She motioned, lightly, with her hand, and Kagome nodded at the "we need to talk" gesture, beginning to weave her way through the dwindling crowd. For a moment, she wondered if the miko had questions, and imagined, just for a little while, that she would ask them.

"Who was that?" she'd inquire, blue eyes bright. "What about that youkai over there, with the funny coat?" She'd point, and blush when Kotono chided her for it, but her curiosity wouldn't be so easily abated. "And who was the demoness in pink? Her kimono was very pretty."

Kotono would answer every single one of those questions, proud of her newest pupil, her newest friend, and they'd laugh together, and gossip, and talk about Kagome's adventures in the South until the little miko became too tired to speak.

And then Kagome—this Kagome who was cold and dispassionate—was standing in front of her, head canted so that she could look up into her face, and all imaginings of warm laughter and easy friendship were struck down. "Yes?"

The tone was cool, the volume low. It hurt, and Kotono cleared her throat to get rid of the ache. "I wanted to tell you that the candidates will be arriving tomorrow morning," she murmured, searching endless blue eyes for a spark of friendship. There was none.

"Why do you need me there?" Kagome asked. "You had the vision, not me."

Kotono had hoped she wouldn't ask that question, but responded nonetheless. "In the vision, you were in the birthing chamber; inuyoukai females only allow very close friends to be with them during such a vulnerable time, and that sort of bond begins at the very first meeting."

She wanted, very badly, to say that dragonkind were that way as well; that bonds as strong as the ones that she and Kagome had developed would last through everything. The words were on the tip of her tongue, so potent she could taste them, when Kagome nodded once more and turned away. The things she ached to say died and slithered back down her throat, settling bitterly in her stomach.

Without a word of farewell, without a backward glance, Kagome left the dining hall, pausing only briefly to bow to Lord Sesshomaru as he came in.

Bright gold met anguished green, and wordless reassurances passed between them.

Everything will work out. Everything will be fine.

:..:..:..:..:

Kotono sat quietly, staring down at the friend whom she had harmed with sadness weighing heavily on her shoulders. 'Why did it have to be this way? She did not deserve this pain; does not deserve what is to come.'

Soon, morning would dawn, and would bring with it more responsibilities, more unnecessary hurt, to the little human. Kagome would blame most of it on her, the dragoness knew, because she had neglected to be forthright, had heeded the gods even as she disputed their methods and withheld vital information. 'And the worst is yet to come.'

Not for the first time, Kotono wished she could tell all, wished she could gather the petite human into her lap and whisper all her secrets into her ear. She wanted to warn her, to prepare her, to make sure she was ready for her destiny…and she could not. Never had she suspected that this would be so hard, so trying, but…

'I would do it again,' she admitted, 'because it is for the best. Sesshomaru-sama needs this…We all need this.'

She was brought out of her thoughts as the miko stirred and opened her eyes. A small, sleepy frown pulled the corners of her mouth down, and with drowsiness slurring her tongue, she asked, "Kotono? What are you…doing here?"

It was the frown and the edge of irritation that hurt the most, and Kotono bowed her head. "I apologize, Kagome. I did not mean to wake you; I can go, if you'd—"

"No, stay." Blunt-nailed fingers brushed against the sleeve of her robe. "Stay."

The whispered request was such a contrast to the soft anger that Kotono could not help but concede. "Very well," she responded quietly, peering down at the little human and noting the dried tear tracks on her cheeks. "You have cried."

A small hand reached up to touch against those dry trails. "I'm… so tired."

"Tired?"

She hummed, and her eyes slipped shut. "Of…everything."

When it became clear that the human wouldn't elaborate, Kotono prompted, "Everything?"

Brilliant blue peeked from between slits of ebony lashes. "Not belonging here…or anywh're."

"Kagome, of course you belong here!"

The miko shook her head. "No. I want to live m' own life."

"This is your life."

"Lord Sesshom'ru didn't choose me because he wanted me." Her eyes slipped shut again, and there were tears in her voice. "He chose me b'cause you told 'im to."

And Kotono's heart clenched as Kagome rolled away, the scent of salt growing strong in the cool air. Slender shoulders shaking, Kagome cried; wept. She hiccupped and gasped, trembled and burrowed further beneath the covers, her entire body curling away from Kotono's presence.

The dragoness faltered, and then, softly, announced, "That's not true, Kagome."

After a while, the young woman asked, "Isn't it?" and shoved the covers away from her body, cinching her sleeping yukata tight around her waist as she stood and made to leave the room.

Kotono scowled, and reached out to grasp her wrist, refusing to let go even as Kagome attempted to wrench free. "No," she answered firmly, pulling until the miko tripped over her futon and fell onto the bedding. The human glared, and the expression made Kotono want to shake her. "You know nothing of Lord Sesshomaru's sacrifice, Kagome," she hissed, hardly used to this childish behavior from a woman who had been reasonable thus far. "Do not make light of what he has done!"

It was the first time the dragoness had raised her voice to the human, and Kagome laughed darkly, finally yanking her wrist from Kotono's grasp. Her reiki swirled around her, brushing uncomfortably against the skin of the youkai's wrists and throat, and still she remained, suddenly understanding that this was the catalyst to it all; this was what centuries of waiting had come to, what centuries of assuring her companions would gain her.

"You mean don't make light of what you've done," the miko responded, lips twisted in a sneer that was completely out of place on a face as beautiful as hers.

Despite herself, and the meek part of her that was valiantly trying to remind her that Kagome was far too fragile for such a thing, Kotono snarled. It was a sound meant to silence, a sound meant to frighten, and she regretted it instantly; Kagome drew back, eyes wide and brimming with uncertainty.

Kotono swallowed. "I apologize, Kagome," she ground out, unable to keep the terseness out of her tone. "But you are being unnecessarily childish." The miko had the mind to suck in an outraged gasp, and before she could spew whatever defense she had come up with, Kotono forged on.

"You react as though you are amongst humans; as though it is we who are out of place and not you! Did I not warn you when you came here that this would not be easy? Yes, I withheld my vision from you, yes I led you to believe that you gained your position through your virtues alone, but—but!" She leaned forward, pouring every ounce of conviction she possessed into her voice. "You are meant to be here!"

There were tears cascading once more down Kagome's cheeks, and feeling as though she had just kicked a very small animal, Kotono let out a breath. She turned away from the miko's broken visage, and stared, for a moment, the rapidly lightening sky through the window.

"For three hundred years," she confessed, "I have been granted vision after vision; I have been shown demoness after demoness, have convinced my lord to accept them as his own. For three hundred years I have hoped that every one of them would be the last." Her gaze drifted back to Kagome's. "For three hundred years, I have been waiting for you."

The surprised gasp was enough. Certain that she had gotten through the anger Kagome had been wearing like a shroud since the previous night, Kotono reached across the space that separated them and brushed a tear away with her thumb.

"I know that you are uncertain," she murmured. "And I know that I am the last person you would like to hear these words from, but all I can ask is that you trust me. Trust me, and trust that the gods have not made a mistake in sending you here. This is where you belong."

And as she made to pull away, Kagome launched herself into her lap, begging forgiveness and not realizing that she had been forgiven long ago.

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