Redemption

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, etc. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

REDEMPTION

Summary: Specters of the past bring forth questions for the future. Can she save his soul, or will he wander forever in darkness?

WORDS

oo-aniki - big brother

WARNING! DARK IMAGERY AND ADULT TOPICS, BAD WORDS AND SPOILERS (EPISODE 122+)

A/N - This is rather a short chapter, and did NOT go as I thought it would. LOL. I am often surprised by what gets typed…though it mostly comes out better than the hazy plans I make before starting out to write a new chapter…it’s like taking a ride on a bike without being able to steer…eeek…anywho, I want to give a most ardent thanks for the wonderful reviews. They truly inspire me to keep on writing. (Fate)

CHAPTER EIGHT

At first she had been tentative and shy with him, especially after waking up in his arms, with him staring down at her with a cocky little smirk as the fierce blush heated up her cheeks. She had never known how deep and dark a blue his eyes could be, as intense as hovering twilight just before the black shadows of deeper night over swept cobalt skies…

“Awake, are you?” He said, and she nodded, distracted by how warm she felt, pretending it was the flush that stained her skin and not the warmth that came from him holding her so closely.

With a shrugging twitch of his shoulders, he released her and she slowly sat up, uncurling the smelly blanket from around her, and making a face at the pungent aroma of horse that arose from her skin. Bankotsu laughed at her expression, and Sango managed a flickering smile in return. Sunlight dappled the deep green shade of the clearing, the shelter of the night slowly gaining renewed life as the morning unfurled.

Bankotsu got to his feet and grinned down at her. “I’ll go get our stuff and we’ll get moving. You seem to be doing better, taijiya.”

She nodded absently, suddenly reminded of her precarious situation. She was his hostage, not here by her own free will, and her friends were probably worrying themselves sick over her welfare. The close exchange of last night seemed distanced by the reminder of just who and what he was…her enemy…though she just couldn’t quite see him as she had before. Still, it felt like a betrayal to have such confusing reactions to his very personable charm, and she felt troubled and a little apprehensive as he saddled up the horse and strapped down the packs before sauntering back to offer her a hand up.

Biting her lip, she silently accepted his assistance, even allowing him to help her mount. The horse shook its head and snorted as Bankotsu, having retrieved both shards and sword, casually climbed up behind her. Securing his huge halberd out of the way, which made the horse sigh in resignation, the mercenary then gathered up the reins and signaled the nag to head on out.

Sango sat stiff and silent as the horse picked its way back toward the main road. She remained mute as they ambled along for a good bit, though she nodded quiet thanks when Bankotsu passed her dried meat and apricots by way of breakfast, sharing the replenished water flask to ease the rather leathery rations down. Bankotsu himself remained quiet and withdrawn, possessed by his own thoughts, but he finally seemed to liven up as they came to a fork in the road. To the left lay a curve of hilly terrain, eventually opening up into distant fields; to the right, the path curved deeper into a forest of deep green shadows.

Sango had been certain they would go left, for that was the way the horse had been leading, but Bankotsu abruptly steered the animal to the right, his mouth quirking to one side in sudden decision. Sango forbore asking him why he was suddenly so concerned with touching the half-mooned hilt of his sword, pressing his fingers in a strange, three-fingered grip and narrowing his eyes in concentration. She did not catch the faint gleam of fuchsia-tinged mist that slowly shadowed their tracks, even though she tried to turn her head to see just what Bankotsu was doing.

The horse shook himself, as if flies had landed on both shoulder and hindquarter. Tail lashing from side to side, it arched its neck and rubbed its long thick head against its shoulder, lightly bumping Sango’s knee. With a laugh, Bankotsu reined its attention back on the road, and with a snorty sigh at the inevitable, it settled back into its normal plodding pace, as the green shadows of the entwining forest enveloped them in verdant twilight.

Bankotsu seemed suddenly at ease, and his idle question made Sango blink, coming as it did right out of the blue. “So, taijiya, we were talking last night about your Hiraikotsu. You mentioned that it was made from demon-bone, and once cracked under the pressure of killing a coyote demon, but you never got around to telling me how you were able to fix it.”

Sango was surprised enough that she was answering him before thinking about it. “My father showed me. I first had to reinforce the boomerang’s surface with…”

And so, by judicious manipulation of the inane, the mercenary was able to draw the taijiya out of her silence, until they were speaking as any old friends, eager to know more about each other. And so the morning passed, as did the afternoon, and Sango relaxed and thought not of her worries or her fate or her friends, but only of the varied focus of their roaming conversation, with one topic flowing easily into another, and yet another…

She grew quiet as the sun descended, troubled and withdrawn as Bankotsu called a halt and proceeded to make camp as if there was nothing wrong. Using the Jewel shards, he again marked a roughly oval space in which she felt more like a prisoner than ever. She answered his few queries with short, terse replies. Cocking a brow at her, she half-expected him to demand to know just what the hell was wrong with her, why she was suddenly so reticent, but he showed surprising forbearance, just passing over a bowl of stewed rice and vegetables that she barely touched.

Sango pointedly avoided him as the moon rose and she made ready for sleep. Choosing her bed in the curving roots of a wide oak, she rolled herself up in the horse-blanket and her eyes grew heavy, though she had feared that her troubled thoughts might have kept her awake. But exhaustion crept up on her out of the dark, and with only the smoldering flicker of their campfire for light, she fell quickly asleep.

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Bankotsu sat cross-legged, elbows on knees and chin propped upon his cupped fists as he stared broodingly into the sputtering fire. The kindling he had scrounged had been slightly damp, and the flames did not like it, and spat moodily in their discontent.

He felt just as disgruntled, and although he was not one to like to sit and think hard over something like some creaky old philosopher, he was doing just that right now. Although he did not watch her, he was conscious of the girl Sango who lay bundled up in the blanket on the far side of their fire. She had grown quiet as the day had waned, and had been all but mumbling by the time she had finally rolled herself up in the crook of that tree to sleep.

He could tell that it was thoughts of her friends that was troubling her. Her oh-so-casual glances over her shoulder as the day grew longer gave her preoccupation away, as had her resigned look as he had walked the boundaries of their chosen campsite, setting up the shards as sentries to fool the nosy and prying.

She hadn’t acted like that earlier. True, she had been quite shy this morning when she had woken up in his lap, but that troubled look had departed once he drew her out. It was only when she was reminded of her rather dubious situation that she seemed to get all wary and silent, keeping her thoughts to herself and all but clamming up on him. She was probably wondering what the hell he was doing, and just where they were going.

To be honest, Bankotsu himself didn’t even know the answer. He had made an abrupt and rather reckless decision back there at the forked paths, and now that decision was trying its best to haunt him with all of the repercussions that might arise from it.

If he had gone left, then they would have come out into settled lands, or semi-settled, rather, for the constant wars of the daimyo down in those hilled valleys had long ravaged the lands and peasants who lived there. Suikotsu had once made his home there, in a small village that had been all too easily destroyed when their lord’s conflicts had come too near. He had thought to lure the hanyou there, and kill him in revenge for the secondary deaths of his mercenary’s band of brothers.

But now he just didn’t quite know what to do. Because while he should be thinking of just how many ways there were to gut that damn half-dog into tiny little pieces, it just didn’t seem all that important. Not that his brothers, and his duty and his allegiance and what he owed to their fallen memories wasn’t less important, but it just seemed a little distant right now, not as immediate, and hell, he was almost tired of how constant it seemed that this, his third chance at life, was taken up with shit that had happened in the other two chances he had had. When would it all end? The fighting and the darkness…

With an uneasy shrug of his shoulders, Bankotsu grimaced. All this deep thinking was making his head hurt. He had always been made more for action than for contemplation, and all this broody bullshit was getting under his skin and making him just plain old irritated.

What the hell was there to think about? He liked the girl’s company. She reminded him of his brothers, well…not precisely all his brothers---but he didn’t feel quite so alone with her around. He felt comfortable with her, at ease. He didn’t have to guard his back with her---though he would never underestimate her ability to toss him on his ass if she were given half a chance and wasn’t down with a gimpy leg and a bruised wrist.

He grinned at the thought. She was unlike any woman he had ever met. He had never, ever, thought that he would find a woman he could actually like, let alone RESPECT. There were few things that he respected in this world. Strength, for one, and trust. Loyalty---which she had in plenty---and honor. Honor! Hell, she was almost stifled with it. The deep shame she harbored in her darkest heart was entirely due to her over-developed sense of what was right, and how much she must live up to what others expected of and from her.

His own sense of honor was so much simpler. Truth…that you be true to your self, your friends and your values. He wasn’t idealistic enough to think that he was anything more than what he was, a mercenary who’s temporary allegiance was up for sale. But his loyalty, once bought, STAYED bought, unless his employer reneged on the contract, thus ending all deals by betraying the terms agreed on beforehand. He didn’t take betrayal very well; hell, would anyone, with HIS history? He didn’t give his trust easily---if he truly thought about it, there had really only been two people in this whole world he had ever really been able to trust, and both Jakotsu and Seiryoku were now dead.

It was kind of sad, come to think of it. Which is why he didn’t think about it all that much. Something told him that he might, eventually, be able to trust Sango, but he wasn’t so stupid as to believe that it was there now, no matter how much they found they held in common. But he wanted the opportunity to try and find out if what he thought might be there ever COULD be, and he was damn sure not going to waste this life as he had the other two.

He steered away from that uncomfortable thought, and wondered what it would take to win the girl’s trust. Not that he needed it, or her, but it sure felt nice to have someone around that needed HIM. He had missed the easy companionship of his brothers more than he could have ever guessed, and while she wasn’t much like THEM, she was actually a lot like him. Strong…though her strengths were different than his, and she couldn’t really see them for what they were, and didn’t damn near give herself enough credit for them. Honest…though, truth be told, she wasn’t all that honest with herself, but was he? But he would never have to wonder too much what she might be thinking or plotting…her emotions were too easily read by those who cared to. Loyal, and brave, a warrior who knew not her own ability, though, come to think of it, she most likely did, but was just too modest to brag about it…

Gah. This was getting him nowhere. What he needed to be doing was figuring out ways he might muddy their trail, so that the hanyou would get tired and frustrated and eventually give up on tracking them. He didn’t think that that half-dog was half as loyal as the taijiya. He had his mate the miko, what more could he want? The monk, by Sango’s own account, was just a friend, and an eye-roaming lecher at that. If some pretty young village girl came along, he would probably go stumbling after her, forgetting all about whatever it was he was doing at the time. Sango would be the least of THAT one’s worries. The fire-neko might prove to be a pain, but in the end, it was a youkai, and Bankotsu didn’t put much stock in THEIR loyalty.

He might be underestimating them, but he would climb that hill when he came to it and not worry about it beforehand. He had made his decision back at the split road, he had taken the right-hand path, which led deep into the wooden wilds and into unknown territory. He meant to keep the girl with him, and that was that.

Heck, he might even consider her a little sister he needed to take care of. Her brother Kohaku had been all but adopted by his band back in the days when Naraku had set them against the Inu-gumi, and what was Sango but that kid’s only living relative? What was one brother’s was another’s; thus Sango could now be considered to be one of his band. It was a start, anyhow.

Though he didn’t really want to consider her in the same light as he would a SISTER…

Ah, well, enough of this shit. He had made his mind up. Now all he needed to do was to make her forget all about her former friends, and show her that it was much better that she stay with him. He would protect her and care for her like none of her friends ever had. Was he not Bankotsu, leader of the Band of Seven? Had he not been their ‘oo-aniki’?

This was for the best, for both of them.

And with that satisfying justification, he felt suddenly freed from the brooding weight of his tangled thoughts. Jumping to his feet, he stalked over to his beloved companion, which rested against a tree, the blade wrapped in dark silk. The half-moon emblem at the end of its hilt glinted in the fitful firelight. Bankotsu laid his open palm on the silk, feeling the living warmth within. At one time, his greed for power had cost him his most prized possession, making him no better than Renkotsu in the end. That wish for strength had been Banryuu’s undoing, and he never intended to make the same mistake twice. If he had learned one thing at Inuyasha’s hands, it had been that he, himself, was strong enough to do whatever he needed to do.

Still, it didn’t hurt to have a couple of Jewel shards around to lend a hand. Naraku had taught him that, though he would never desire ultimate power in the way that that demon had. Strength was enough….though the shards certainly helped. Whatever worked, WOULD. If the broken pieces of the Shikon no Tama proved convenient, then what the hell.

Brushing his fingers along the silk-wrapped blade, he pulled forth the power from the shards thrust within. There were six of them, some slightly larger than the others, though he didn’t think their power was aided or reduced by their relative size. Still, knitting them together, he had quite a bit of focused power with which to use, and as he closed his eyes and thought hard on what he wanted from them, they gained a malignantly fuchsian glow, as if waiting for his direction.

But his aims were hazy, and so, while he put his desire into that wealth of power, it lacked the true command the dark hanyou Naraku had always given. He wished their trail lost, so that the Inu-gumi would eventually give up, as he was sure they would, and wanted Sango freed of the burden of her guilty conscious in regards to them. He had misty hopes that Sango would eventually start to regard him as much as he regarded her, and had no idea how that could be brought about. It was all rather muddled and confusing, and he didn’t quite know how to phrase it. So he just made his hazy wish known, and trusted that the power of the Jewel would know best what to do about it.

The rest he would leave up to fate or chance or whatever other cosmic being out there might happen to take an interest in it---though he honestly didn’t believe there was anything such thing up there who might care; the gods had forsaken HIM long before he had ever forsaken THEM…

The glowing aura of power that surrounded his sword and outstretched palm seemed to darken for a moment at that thought, but then it brightened infinitesimally, growing a shade paler as if it had finally hit upon something it understood. With a miasmic swirling of feathering radiance, it wrapped itself around the giant halberd in a dancing trail of flickering specks of ethereal light before trickling away into the darkness of the night, finally vanishing as if it had never been summoned.

Bankotsu felt a faint, tingling reminder in the outstretched fingers of his hand, but that was all. With a curious look of satisfaction, he dropped his touch upon the halberd’s silk-wrapped blade, and it was with casual indifference that he sat down beside it, leaning his head back against the same tree as his sword, closing his eyes and finding his own way into sleep…

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The dust of long, empty years lay thick and heavy on the stoned testaments of the past. The armored priestess, her sword arm thrust back, ever-ready to pierce the twining neck of the giant dragon who roared angry defiance with teeth-bared jaws opened wide to snap her in two, were stilled for untold centuries into the last moments of life, a frozen tableau of an end that had never come.

The deep hole in the priestess’s chest, where once her heart lay beating, and which seemed to have been thrust violently forth, out of her stoned body, glowed faintly in the dark whispering shadows of the long-abandoned tomb. A trickle of pink and fuchsia-touched light, mere pinpoints of iridescent life, gathered in and around that pierced opening to dance. The sightless eyes, raised forever in anger and denial against the powerful demon who would have slain her, seemed to glow with a faint, hallowed blue light, as if awareness stirred within that stoned cavity.

An answering gleam came from the reddened eye of the dragon who faced her, its sullen miasma touched with ancient evil. The pale blue light of purity in the stone miko’s eyes brightened imperceptibly, but the dragon’s malice stirred, as if in answer to the unspoken challenge that had bound them both for eternity, forever striving for supremacy. Long had the demon’s aura been fueled by the foul darkness that surrounded and tainted the shattered Jewel of Four Souls, but there might, just might, be a chance that Midoriko could win free in the end, though the selfish desires of a single man’s heart were small comfort to rest one’s hopes upon. The demon understood this, and the bloodied light in his stony gaze seemed to waver with malicious glee.

But the pale blue glow in the sightless eyes of the dead warrior-priestess remained, a silent whisper of faith in the shadowed-etched darkness…