How All Came to Be

DISCLAIMER: *sigh* Yet another chapter where I must admit I do not own IY.

Chapter 6:

Fortitude


A ray of moonlight filtered through the forest canopy creating a halo of shine on the dark haired wolf Prince. Koga tilted his nose into the wind and breathed deeply. He cringed and muttered, “Mutt-face,” snorting to clear his nose.

Oh well, it couldn’t be helped. Why his Kagome insisted on traveling with the rancid smelling half-demon he’d never understand. Another, more delicate sniff. Now that he was closer, he realized he didn’t smell the pretty miko, or any of her other companions. Curiosity surfaced and he tilted his head. His instincts screamed the wrongness of the situation.

Dusting off his caution, Koga forwent traveling in his trademark whirlwind. Something about the whole set-up was off. Dog-breath was alone, and his scent was...different? There was blood mixed with it, old blood. Its scent too faint to trace the source. Had there been a battle? Icy orbs blinked and he cracked his knuckles, moving toward the clearing on the other side of the tree line.

Soundlessly he broke from the shadows, his steps parting the tall grasses swaying in the glade. Above him the stars shimmered through thin wispy clouds. Koga’s brow wrinkled. A shuffle and a low growl fluttered across the distance, drawing his gaze.

Inuyasha was crouched in the center of the clearing. His hair ruffled wildly around his shoulders, and his eyes glowing a eerie claret. The hanyou growled low in his throat, more vibration than sound. Fangs flashed in a malicious smirk.

Koga swallowed involuntarily, but held his ground. Another gust of wind caused the bell flowers to toss their heads wildly. In a blink, the hanyou was gone. ‘What the...?’ The wolf Prince whipped his head from side to side. Nothing. Not a glimpse of red remained, the scent lingered.

A jolt of warning shot down his spine just before claws sank deeply into Koga’s right shoulder. He whirled around, the motion ripping his flesh further. He grunted, pivoting fluidly despite the pain, and prepared to drive his heel into the hanyou’s temple.

Inuyasha jumped back, feet effortlessly gripping the cold ground. A dark chuckle spilled from his lips as he brought the hand covered in blood up for closer inspection. His tongue darted out and slid languidly along his index finger.

“What the hell dog-breath?” He’d never seen Inuyasha so...feral. Koga prepared to spring yet again. The weeds of the clearing tapped rhythmically against his shins.

Without warning Inuyasha dove at the wolf, slashing rapidly. Koga dodged, leaping further back into the open area. The two circled each other both brandishing claws and fangs. Strike, dodge, duck, kick. The ground ripped and trembled under their force.

Koga snarled. “So this is how it is? I should’ve known as soon as Kagome wasn’t around you’d try to do me in. Well that’s too bad, ‘cause you’re too slow!” The last word was punctuated with a jab to the inu hanyou’s jaw.

Surprise flickered across the wolf’s face when instead of evading the blow Inuyasha stepped into it, at the same time bringing his claws down across Koga’s abdomen. Blood trickled from under the remnants of his broken armor. In a quick precise movement, the half-demon dropped to his haunches and sliced open the wolf Prince’s legs.

Koga sunk his fangs into his bottom lip, refusing to cry out against the pain of the shards forced removal. He managed to stagger back, dropping into a crouch. In horror the wolf watched his shards shoved into the chest of the inu hanyou. He curled his lip in disgust. “So you’re no different then low class filth like Naraku.” Gathering his strength he stood. “If you’ve hurt Kagome I’ll...”

Inuyasha flexed his claws, and streaked forward. A firm fist landed just below Koga’s solar plexus and sent the him careening into a tree. He landed with a sickening crack. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered that he was losing too much blood. ‘This is nothing...’ His gaze rested on his right leg. It was twisted at an unnatural angle, white bone protruding through the tissue of his thigh. Silver and red entered his vision. Inuyasha, smiling.

“Kagome,” Koga watched the moonlight glint off of the hanyou’s claws. ‘I failed you.’ His eyelids grew heavy. ‘Forgive me.’

In the distance Ginta and Hakkaku’s shouts could be heard.

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No one had informed Kagome that grief tainted everything. The world had lost its color, as if a gray cloth had been pulled over her eyes. She stared at her hands in the firelight. The shine from the small knife she was using to chop vegetables caught her gaze. It winked playfully and then disappeared in the next downward stroke. Even this mundane task reminded her of the woman who would never perform it again.

She found herself making deals with the Kamis. If she completed the job they had set before her, if she were just oh so good, then maybe she would wake up and find it was all a dream. Maybe then she could convince herself that wishing for her family back on the completed jewel was anything but a selfish wish. Even in her sorrow a part of her recoiled at the idea. It was the part of her already hardened by her years in the Sengoku Jidai. The part of her that refused to lie to herself.

Sure, she was a naive little schoolgirl when she fell through the well, and ridiculously optimistic when it came to Inuyasha. She cringed at his name. But there was a part of her that knew her limits. That same voice that told her a few months back to start letting go of her affection for the hanyou or sink with the ship. Oh and how the ship did sink.

Kagome had woken from a fitful sleep while the stars still shone brightly. It had been a nightmare full of screams, claws, and rust colored stains. She’d been panting and shivering. Terror, and an ache so deep she couldn‘t describe it had filled her. Unable to withstand the tide of emotion, slender fingers had buried into tangled black tresses and a long silent scream of anguish had lodged in her throat.

Why? Why!? It wasn’t fair. Her mother’s voice had floated from her memories: Life’s not fair, Kagome. All the responsibility, all the horrible things that had happened, threatened to crumble the woman beneath them. The decision she had made to face the path ahead instead of being dragged down it kicking and screaming came back to her. It was apparent that it was not a simple one time choice. She would have to choose it, over and over. When she finally relented and cracked her eyes open, deepest blue had met brilliant gold.

Now she occupied herself by making omelets. Kaede had been kind enough to drop off a basket the village women had prepared when they heard of the young miko’s state. It had included eggs, vegetables, rice, and a loaf of bread. She would have to do something nice for them in the near future, if only for the eggs saving her sanity.

The others would be waking soon. Kagome put her tea kettle over the fire on the mesh screen shared with the frying pan. Sango had declared that her training would begin an hour before dawn. That was any minute now.

She refused to look at her watch on account of the last time it had ended badly. All she had done was count backwards and tally up the hours since her horror began. The watch now resided in the very bottom of her yellow backpack.

When the smell of breakfast caused Shippo’s nose to twitch and the little kit to open his eyes Kagome was relieved. It had been uncomfortable having the demon Lord’s gaze trained on her all morning as if she were a particularly interesting bug. Since she had crawled out of her sleeping back his emotions had gone from curious, to confused, to what on any other being might have been concern. At least with someone else awake he couldn’t overtly stare holes into her back.

Shippo blinked blearily at her and mumbled a half-formed question about food. Kagome responded in the affirmative, and soon the kitsune had nudged Rin awake. This process was repeated with Rin nudging Jaken, Jaken ribbing Miroku less than gently with the end of his staff, and Miroku shaking Sango. When everyone settled around the fire with breakfast in front of them the traditional morning slap echoed through the clearing coupled with a slurred cry of “hentai.” As if the sounds themselves heralded it, the pre-dawn bird song broke in the forest. The monk finished his omelet with a smile and a handprint on his face.

Kagome took a last bite of her own breakfast. The day before she felt no desire to eat, but all thoughts of that had been put to rest upon smelling the roasting venison Sesshomaru had provided. Odd. She wondered if he had somehow known.

The daiyoukai himself disappeared after once again turning down the offered meal. Kagome began to ponder over what exactly he ate. Thankfully before her mind could supply, what she was sure would be very inventive things, Sango interrupted her.

“The boys can clear up. We should change and get started.”

“Alright.” The miko stood, wondering what she would wear. Truthfully she had no idea what she had brought back with her. Shrugging, she untied the first bundle and dove up to her elbows in clothing. After a few minutes of digging, and the contemplation of exactly what had been her fascination with short skirts, she produced garments deemed ‘appropriate.’

Moving behind some brush she slid on a pair of gray sweat pants, her sports bra, and a powder blue tank top. Her white, and to her new horror pink, Addias athletic shoes were the last to go on. When she emerged and stood next to Sango their clothes were a contrast that testified to their respective skill levels. The taijiya wore the glove of experience, while Kagome’s own frumpy appearance screamed first day in the gym.

“We’ll have to have the village tailor make you something to wear,” Sango said as she circled the younger woman. “These are too loose.” She tugged lightly on the cotton fabric of the pants.

Kagome’s brow crinkled as she pictured the flowing robes of Miroku, and the billowing hakama of Kikyo. Though she did concede that the demon slayer was much freer in her fighting style.

“A katana would be a good thing to pick up as well,” Sango mumbled absently.

They walked to the edge of the glade, distancing themselves from the others. Rin and Shippo hunkered down on the periphery to watch. Funny how wet grass never phases children.

“I figured we would start on hand to hand combat first. Does that sound alright?”

Kagome nodded and Sango spent the next two hours taking her through basic blocks and hits. At first the miko found it difficult to concentrate. Her mind kept skipping off to less than pleasant subjects. The distracted state manifested in her performance, earning her a few sharp reprimands. Finally, in an effort to rid herself of the intermittent twangs of pain in her heart and horrid flashbacks she focused on her senses.

She concentrated on the sound of her breathing, the rustle of fabric. She memorized the shift of tendon and pull of muscle that occurred with each move. The fluid glide of the damp grass beneath her feet imprinted itself on her memory.

The taijiya watched with a critical eye as the first clumsy attempts slowly gave way to a grace and speed that she had not thought the young woman possessed. It was far from perfect, but she knew potential when she saw it. Though unrefined the moves were full of confidence, and growing up in a slayer’s village had taught her confidence was the difference between a passable fighter, and a dangerous one.

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From within the woods Sesshomaru was drawing a similar conclusion. He had battled many different types of opponents over the years. There were those who fought because they had no other option. Those who used the structures of their bodies to find a niche in warfare but were incapable in anything outside their chosen field. Combatants existed who waged war with their hearts or intellects, some who threw their very spirit into the fray.

Of all the types it was the warriors who fought for power that were the most lethal. Not power over land or people, but supremacy over themselves. The path of supreme conquest. Opponents that were the most dangerous were the ones who knew their strengths and weaknesses like the lines on their own palms. The miko would be one of those.

He watched as she ferreted out her limitations, pushing against their boundaries. It was not passion or anger that burned in her eyes. Instead it was the truth of the enlightened. She seemed to be battling her soul. Digging in her fingers to harness the fire and power she possessed. Molding it into something sharp and deadly.

It was fragile and new, but the blunt edge had already been formed. All she needed to do was hone it.

He broke his gaze from the woman, disturbed to find that his mind had not been watching with a wholly professional gaze. His lip lifted slightly in a sneer as he realized the tightness of his hakama. The shift of her abdominal muscles under the intriguingly form fitted blue fabric came back to him. As well as the roll of her hips when she altered her stance. He had never been affected in such a way by a mortal woman, a miko no less.

Perhaps it was her vulnerable state of mind that drew the predator in him. But that couldn’t be. Most mortals, male and female, acted liked spooked deer before him. Those who didn’t flee like prey cowered like cornered animals, snapping and snarling with false bravado until their spines cracked. Even the monk and slayer carried a wariness with them, as if they were mice befriended by a snake.

Rin, his Rin, she was an exception, and so too, it appeared, was the miko. She had the audacity to be angry with him, to sincerely thank him, to trust him.

Despite his views on her species, she was physically adequate, curvy and well proportioned. ‘And loyal,’ a previously unknown voice added. Sesshomaru’s lips tugged down at the corners. ‘And honest.’ A growl escaped him. The demon Lord chided himself for his undisciplined thoughts. However, he soon found himself wondering if she was what human beings could be. If they could all be pushed to her level. Magenta lids secreted away golden orbs. No. She was an oddity. It was her rarity that made her special, that made her needed. And it had built her fate.

She was he Shikon miko, and he was the demon Lord of the Western Lands, neither of them had time to dally. He commenced rinsing his claws of blood in the small creak, careful to keep his eyes from straying back to the miko.

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Kagome was hot, sweaty, and undeniably amused. When her attention had shifted back to the people around her she saw Rin and Shippo copying her from the sidelines. Sango had even taken a few minutes to correct the youngsters in their technique. Brushing damp bangs from her eyes she turned once again to her teacher, knowing training was
far from over.

“Let’s do some archery before we move on to sword techniques. We’ll
spend another half-hour before sunset going over what you learned in
hand to hand.”

Inwardly the miko groaned. She was glad for the cool start to the day. The heavy mists of autumn had yet to arrive, but the first tinges of
color had already begun to paint the trees. Kagome bent to pick up her
bow and quiver before following Sango into the forest away from camp. They stopped before a large maple, placing their backs to the clearing they had just vacated. Its leaves were tipped yellow, and Kagome found the color soothing. At least it wasn’t crimson, she had seen enough of that to last her a lifetime.

“Hmm,” the taijiya mused as she looked over the miko’s quiver. “Maybe we should wait on archery until you have a chance to get more arrows in the village.”

‘Oh,’ Kagome’s eyes widened. ‘With everything that happened I forgot I needed arrows.’

“Well, just fire off one or two. We know you’re good in archery, but it doesn’t hurt to... practice.” Sango’s words trailed off in a mumble as she looked around distractedly.

“Sango?” Kagome took in the way her friend’s gaze darted from tree to tree. “Is everything alright?”

Whatever had bothered her, the taijiya seemed to shake it off. “Yeah. Go ahead Kagome.”

The sound of a bowstring being drawn back mixed with the rustle of leaves. After using sacred arrows for so long Kagome didn’t even have to concentrate for her powers to spiral up the projectile’s shaft. The soft pink glow was stationary for a moment before she released and a comet of light came into contact with the tree trunk.

Kagome watched the feathers on her arrow shiver under the impact with satisfaction. “We can go to the village from here. It’s early but Kaede’s probably already awa-”

A twig snapped to the two women’s left. Instantly Sango had drawn her sword. “Show yourself,” she commanded. The miko loaded another arrow.

After what sounded like a short tussle with the underbrush a girl a few years older than Rin stepped from the shadows. She wore the traditional garb of a peasant, straw sandals and a rough kimono. Her hair, the color of wet sand, was tied back in a handkerchief. Brown eyes lowered to look upon the ground. “My apologies Lady taijiya and Lady miko. I did not mean to startle you,” she said with a bow.

Something wasn’t quite right about the child. It was something in her aura. It flickered. Before Kagome could place it, their visitor spoke again.

“May I introduce myself as Maki? You are the miko who traveled with the inu hanyou.”

Kagome blinked, the girl’s phrasing was all wrong, questions were statements and statements were questions. She opened her mouth to ask the girl about it, as well as how she knew about Inuyasha.

Brown eyes grew almost black in their seriousness. “He has destroyed a village South of here. The headman requested I come to find you in hopes you might stop his rampage.”

A tingle of doubt flowed through Kagome’s mind like ice water and it took her a moment to realize the suspicion wasn’t coming from her. Sesshomaru had to be nearby because she was receiving his emotions about the situation. She focused on the feeling, wondering why the demon Lord would be so uneasy. As if she had asked the question out loud the answer came to her. The girl was lying.

On instinct her arm shot out, pushing against Sango’s chest and backing both of the women away from Maki.

“What are you doing? Kagome?” Sango’s words went unheeded.

Pale pink lips lifted into a gentle smile. “My message has been delivered.” The girl bowed again before turning back into the shadows from whence she came. The miko was left with an odd feeling, as if the forest had just gotten darker.

“Kagome!” The taijiya’s words finally broke through and startled blue eyes turned to her.

“What?” Noticing the protective position of her arm she slowly lowered it. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly.

Narrowed cinnamon held her gaze for a moment. “What was that all about?”

The miko bit her lip. “I don’t know. It’s just...she didn’t feel right. She was lying.”

“Lying about what?” Sango looked confused. “And how do you know that?” She asked.

Completely forgetting that Sesshomaru was nearby Kagome answered. “I could feel Sesshomaru, and he could tell that she was lying about something.”

Before the demon slayer could voice her next question said demon Lord was standing next to the them looking very perturbed. Kagome had the extreme displeasure of knowing he wasn’t happy and that it was directed at her. She gulped.

“Leave,” he commanded.

Kagome didn’t even try to pretend he meant her. “Go ahead Sango. I think Sesshomaru and I need to talk.”

The taijiya looked skeptical for a moment, but with a reassuring smile from Kagome she turned back towards camp. “If you need me, yell.” Sango cast a quick glare at the demon Lord as she left.

Silence reigned between the miko and daiyoukai for a solid three minutes after Sango left the clearing. Kagome bit her lip and tried not to fidget under his steady stare. Why was he so angry? Hadn’t he known?

“How long?”

Though she had been expecting him to speak she had to fight not to flinch at his tone. Two words, and there was a threat in each one. “Since the night you walked into our camp.” She felt his anger double and sucked in a quick breath against her will.

His eyes narrowed. “Explain.” It was a command.

Normally she would have taken offense, but now that she wasn’t preoccupied with training or cooking she felt worn. Kagome rubbed her face with her hands, unceremoniously plopping down onto the forest floor. “When you were getting closer to us that night I used a trick Kaede taught me. It’s used to tell if someone means harm. A miko stretches out her aura and kind of...prods...at the other’s aura. You can get a pretty good idea about a person’s intentions. I’ve used it a few times before but nothing like this has ever happened.”

During the explanation her gaze had dropped to her wringing hands. A quick glance up as well as a flash of impatience told her to continue.

“When I touched your aura it felt like you...well...grabbed mine.” She mumbled. Feeling his disbelief she hurried on. “I tried pulling back but I couldn’t. I thought you knew,” she finished in a small voice.

Kagome looked up at him through her bangs, wondering what he was thinking. His anger had abated to be replaced by contemplation. It wasn’t completely gone, but what remained was mild irritation.

‘How is it possible?’ Sesshomaru stared down at the little miko. From what she had said he had bonded her to himself. If that were the case it was a simple pack bond. Granted he had done so unconsciously and with a miko no less, but it was a common enough connection. Just not for him.

Normally this type of bond served as a way for pack members to feel distress, pain, or fear. In such a way aide could be delivered to the endangered party. She should not have been able to pick up all of his emotions but, then again, she was a miko. Priestesses had a natural proclivity toward empathy. Her uncanny intuition about his moods made perfect sense now. Should he not, then, also sense the miko’s emotions?

He took a moment to focus himself inward and was not entirely surprised when he felt the thin trickle of anxiety that was not his. In a swirl of silk he turned and headed back in the direction of camp. His deep voice called back to her. “Do not dawdle.”

Figuring that was as close to a reprieve as she would get from the demon Lord, Kagome climbed hastily to her feet. She brushed a few dead leaves off of her pants, listening to the clacking sound of the Popular leaves before slowly setting off on the path toward her group. Unknown to her brown eyes followed her the whole way back.

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AN: Thank you to my reviewers. You guys help me so much when I get hung up on this story.