A/N: Hello, and thank you for 'popping in'. :D This is a short story based on the opening scene of the 3rd InuYasha movie, Swords of An Honourable Ruler. I found that scene of particular interest, for the anime has revealed little regarding InuYasha's early years and even less of Sesshoumaru's relationship with their father. So, I wondered... what might have happened in those weeks that followed the Inu no Taisho's death?
This was originally going to be posted as a 'oneshot', but I've decided to break it down into three installments. Given the large number of updates per day in the InuYasha category, I thought a single posting might get swept away in the flood, lol. I hope you find this 'wee scribble' entertaining. Regards, AvidReaderAlso Disclaimer: The characters of the anime InuYasha are the property of Takahashi Rumiko/Shogakukan and Yomiuri TV Sunrise 2000.
Blood Ties
The old servant shivered as he slid open the door and stepped outside. He was sure the cold, damp wind was striking his very bones, in spite of the heavy cloak he wore. Such a winter we've had! he thought. Even though a heavy rain was removing the recent snowfall, there was no doubt in the elderly man's mind that all would be frozen in ice by tomorrow morning.
Muttering to himself about having to leave the warm kitchen, he hurriedly shuffled along a covered walkway which lead to the main part of his lord's mansion. As he blew on his hands to warm them, his thoughts returned to the woman who had arrived at the estate earlier that afternoon. Any visitor would be a topic for discussion in the servants' quarters, but this one, having appeared at the gates on such a bitter day, had given rise to more eager speculation than usual. And, when one considered the fact that the poor lady had been on foot, and carrying a babe... it was, the old man believed, a miracle that she had arrived safely.
On entering the main building, he was surprised to come upon this same lady in the small hall leading to the master's study. He bowed to her, and received a gracious nod and a kind smile in return; then, he hurried to light the room's one small brazier. The lady whispered her thanks for this action as she moved to stand near the bright flames.
Bowing to the visitor again, the servant made his way toward the sleeping chambers to attend to their braziers and hearths. It was disgraceful, he grumbled to himself, that no one had lit a fire for the lady before now. But then, he doubted that anyone had expected her to be still waiting to see the master. After all, she had claimed to be his niece...
How much longer before the daimyo sees her? he wondered. Why has she been treated so?
Similar thoughts chased through the mind of the young woman who stood gratefully beside the now glowing brazier. Her expression seemed calm as she glanced at the closed doors to the study, but her heart was beating rapidly with worry and anxiety. It had been more than two hours since she had requested an audience with her father's brother and, still, she was waiting – still, no one could tell her when, or if, her relative would receive her. However, the reason for her uncle's apparent discourtesy was no mystery to her. She had no doubt that the soldiers at the gate had reported what they had seen in her arms.
Had she made a mistake in coming here? Should she have sought her mother's family instead, even though their lands were leagues distant? No, she admitted to herself with a sigh. She would never have survived such a long journey on foot.
When she had first arrived, the mansion's steward, noting her pale complexion and the dark circles beneath her eyes, had kindly offered her some tea. Fear had stolen her appetite, however, even though her last meal had been meagre, and she had politely declined. Now, she was regretting that decision. At least, she thought, the tea would have been hot and drinking it would have offered her some distraction. She had already memorised every detail of the sparsely furnished antechamber – in fact, she was certain that she would forever be able to recall every carving that decorated the wooden pillars framing the doorway before her.
She wondered again... would her uncle grant her sanctuary? Would he honour his blood tie to her? Then, she looked down at the small bundle nestled in her arms, and her dark brown eyes softened with love. Will Uncle honour his blood tie to you, my perfect darling? she asked silently, as she once again marvelled at the wonder who was her son. Tears sprang to her eyes as she took in his delicate, baby features... so soft and round, but already proclaiming him his father's child. His father, who...
Oh, my love... I miss you so...
She could not continue this line of thought, she realised – not if she was to stay strong when she faced her uncle. Later, she could weep for her loss.
The door to the study suddenly slid open, startling her. She composed herself quickly, and turned to face the middle-aged steward who bowed respectfully to her before he spoke.
'The Master will see you now, Lady Izayoi.'
'So, Izayoi... what would you have me do?'
The question came from a lean-featured man in his fifties sitting behind a low writing table. Izayoi, who knelt demurely on a floor mat before the table, tried not to flinch as her uncle, Lord Katashi, watched her through narrowed eyes. He had already made it very clear that her arrival was not a welcome event.
'It is as I told you, Uncle,' came her soft reply. 'The mansion was burnt to the ground by Takemaru of Setsuna. I had hoped we might shelter here... at least, until the roads are passable. Then, we may be able to reach my mother's family...'
Katashi snorted. 'You speak as though I have already denied you sanctuary.'
Izayoi looked at him in surprise. 'Forgive me, Uncle,' she said, 'but, I was under the impression that our presence... inconvenienced you.'
'You are an inconvenience, Izayoi,' he interrupted her. 'In fact, you are... a disgrace. But... you are also family. That, however...' His voice became a harsh whisper as he gestured to the infant in Izayoi's arms. 'That would have been better left on a hillside to die.'
Her cheeks flushed, Izayoi met her uncle's cold stare squarely. 'My son is all I have.'
'Your son...' Katashi sneered. 'It's a hanyo, Izayoi' he said angrily. 'The half-breed spawn of a yokai. Neighbouring samurai have already given me enough grief – I don't need trouble with demons as well. What if its father...?'
'Have no fear, Uncle. His father will not trouble you.' The young woman struggled to keep her voice from breaking. She lowered her gaze to the infant in her arms who had so far slept through their conversation. 'His father is dead.'
The only answer this remark received was a surprised grunt. Izayoi was silent; she remained on her knees, awaiting her uncle's decision.
Katashi saw her determination – he realised that, even if he refused her sanctuary, she would not abandon her half-demon offspring. He sighed, feeling trapped by his own sense of honour. Izayoi was his brother's child, but... how could he permit a hanyo to reside within his home?
'You realise this half-demon won't be accepted, Izayoi?' Katashi asked then, his voice sharp with frustration. 'Even if I agree to its presence, do not expect it to be acknowledged as family. Your aunt and cousins have already expressed their... displeasure... that you have consorted with a demon.'
'I have "consorted", as you say, with the kindest of men... kinder and more compassionate than most humans.' Though her voice was low, Izayoi's eyes flashed with anger – the limit of her endurance had been reached. 'Shall I tell you of my dear love, Uncle – the Inu no Taisho, the Lord of the West, who deplored the wars of humans? Who only wanted to keep me safe? Who was so happy... when I told him that I was to bear his child?'
Her voice broke then, and the tears she had fought so hard to suppress shone in her eyes. 'He was horribly injured, but he fought his way through Takemaru's army. And... he saved my life, Uncle. He... wanted me to live... and to care for our son...'
At this, Izayoi shifted the bundle in her arms so that her uncle had a clear view of what it contained. Though he kept grimly silent at the sight, Katashi's eyes widened as he looked directly at the sleeping infant for the first time. He could not help staring at the small, pricked dog ears protruding from a thatch of thick, snow-white hair. As his niece continued to speak, the ears began to twitch slightly and their owner stirred.
'He has a name, Uncle – given to him by the father he will never know,' she said. 'He is called "InuYasha" ...'
As she spoke his name, the baby in Izayoi's arms stirred again. He had sensed his mother's distress; though he was too young to understand what he felt, instincts granted to him by his yokai heritage caused him to react to it. InuYasha began to whimper.
Katashi was startled to hear such a human sound coming from a hanyo infant. He sighed again, and wondered if he would regret the decision he was about to make. Then, he turned his head and called to his steward who, he knew, was waiting as instructed just outside the second door to the study.
The steward entered the room cautiously, and cast a worried glance at the lady. Obviously, Lord Katashi realised with mild surprise, here was one who felt sympathy for his niece. He also knew that, unfortunately, his loyal retainer would be in the minority.
'Izayoi. Hiroshi will show you to the guest quarters.'
The lady looked up, surprise evident on her face. Then, she composed herself and bowed low to her relative.
'I am grateful, Uncle.'
Katashi suddenly looked, and felt, very tired. He raised his hand in a gesture of dismissal. 'Just go,' he said. 'We shall speak later.'
Once he was alone, the daimyo allowed himself the luxury of resting his elbows on the table; with a soft groan, he pressed his hands to his temples in an attempt to stave off the tension headache which he knew was about to flow across his scalp to lodge firmly behind his eyes. At least, he thought with a small measure of relief, the hanyo's sire was dead. The Inu no Taisho had been no ordinary demon, but a taiyokai – a 'great demon' – possessed of tremendous strength.
Katashi had worked hard to maintain peace in this small world that was his estate. The threats of marauding ronin or civil war – those he could handle. Demons, however, were another matter. A powerful inu yokai descending upon his mansion was too horrifying an image for him to consider...
A tall, solitary figure moved silently across the burnt and deserted clearing – what faint sound his passage might have made was muffled by an icy fog that was rising in response to the weak, early morning sunshine. Not even birdsong could be heard, though the lone visitor's yokai instincts had already told him that this was due to impending inclement weather rather than to anything preternatural.
Temperatures had plummeted after the heavy winter rains, and the charred timbers and building stones heaped about the area were enshrouded with ice, making their appearance seem even more fragile. The winding path through these obstacles offered treacherous footing, yet Sesshoumaru, newly acknowledged Lord of the Western Lands traversed it with ease. His white kimono and polished armour remained unmarred as the aristocratic dog demon smoothly skirted the soot-blackened remains of what had once been a grand mansion.
The taiyokai stopped when he reached the centre of the ruins. He stood perfectly still as his sharp, analytical mind rapidly assessed all that his acute senses told him about the site. The expression on his elegant face was impassive as he regarded the unremarkable-looking patch of scorched ground upon which he stood.Then, his yoki – his aura of demonic power – rose as anger gripped him. Currents of Power stirred the air about the demon, causing his silver-white hair and the thick length of pale, soft fur wrapped over his left shoulder to swirl lightly about him. Sesshoumaru knew that he stood upon the very spot where his father had died.
While battling humans...
It was the thought of the Inu no Taisho meeting such a miserable end which now infuriated the dog demon. That his father was dead had already been revealed to him two days ago, when he had received his 'legacy'...
He glanced with disdain at the sheathed sword tucked into his ornate sash. The sword smith, Totosai, had left this blade – the Tenseiga – where his master's son would be sure to find it. Then, the old demon had wisely gone to ground. The parasite has apparently fled as well, thought the taiyokai, thinking of the annoying old flea yokai who had been his father's 'vassal'. Unfortunately, both demons had taken with them any knowledge they may have had of the whereabouts of his father's other swords – the swords which the powerful Sesshoumaru actually considered worthy of his notice: the Tessaiga and the Sounga.
Father must have known he was dying, the dog demon realised. Yet, he still chose to come here. He recalled how the Inu no Taisho had been determined to go to his human consort, despite being severely injured from his battle against the demon Ryukotsusei. Sesshoumaru had told his father that he would not try to stop him, but that, since he was set on going, he should first entrust the Tessaiga and the Sounga to him. His sire's response to this 'request' had been to ask him why he desired power, and... if he had someone to protect. And then, on hearing his son's answers – that he sought Supreme Conquest, and that he had no need to protect anyone – the Great Dog Demon had left... taking all three of his swords with him.
A small furrow appeared beneath the indigo crescent moon which marked the inu yokai's forehead. His father's actions, and his last words, still made no sense to him.
The Tessaiga is now mine by right. As is the Sounga. No one else has the strength to wield them... Frustrated, Sesshoumaru turned abruptly and strode away from the ruins. He concluded that this journey had been a waste of time: he would learn nothing here which would lead him to his father's swords. He did not even know all the details of his sire's passing. However...
The human wench is to blame, he thought bitterly. Father insisted on going to her side, and so he died without honour.
Sesshoumaru had long thought that he would one day battle his own sire for supremacy. Now, he had been denied that ultimate victory. This, he believed, was why he was so angry about his father's death. After all, what other reason could there possibly be, that he should feel so... frustrated? Not only would he never face the Inu no Taisho in battle, but the Tessaiga and Sounga had vanished and...
The taiyokai's frustration grew as his thoughts turned again to his inheritance from his father. The Tenseiga. A useless blade which cannot cut, he thought. It will never be a worthy weapon.
He halted suddenly – Sesshoumaru had noticed a new scent. A human female, he realised. And... blood. The trail was only a few days old.
A brief, low growl escaped him. He knew to whom this scent must belong...
In that instant, Sesshoumaru remembered that his sire had had the Tessaiga created to protect his human consort, and he suddenly wondered... was it possible that she knew the blade's location?
A demon of his stature... ask a human for information?
'Hnh. Ridiculous,' he murmured as he disappeared silently into the forest.
The Lady Izayoi sat on a sun-warmed bench, sheltered from the late winter winds by a thick juniper hedge. Ever since the bitterly cold weather had finally abated a few days ago, she had come to this secluded corner near the outer wall of the main courtyard – a peaceful haven, where she could sit quietly and observe the daily activity of the mansion without herself being an object of interest. The young woman was more than grateful to be able to escape the confines of the guest quarters, and there was little comfort for her to find elsewhere. Although the weather outside had improved, the climate within her uncle's home had not.
Two weeks had passed since her arrival at her uncle's estate and, as Katashi had predicted, Izayoi's presence was highly resented, in particular by his oldest son, Ichiro. Katashi's heir had made his opinion about half-demons abundantly clear. And, that morning, Izayoi had accidentally overheard an argument which had unsettled her greatly. Her cousin had been most... vocal... in once more expressing his opinions to his father.
Issues had come to a head between father and son because Lord Katashi had been expecting a visit from the representative of a neighbouring daimyo with whom he had been negotiating an uneasy truce for months. Izayoi had been passing her uncle's study in time to hear her cousin shout that harbouring a hanyo abomination would cause hostilities to resume, for, the angry young man had declared, any respect Katashi might have earned from his old enemy would be lost if their 'guests' were discovered. Ichiro had then suddenly exited his father's study, and had almost collided with Izayoi in the hallway.
Ichiro had glared at his cousin, and she had flinched at the loathing in his eyes. 'If you heard that, demon's harlot,' he had hissed, 'then you know to keep out of sight today!' Then, he had roughly pushed past her to make his way to the family quarters.
Lady Izayoi had turned to see her uncle regarding her sternly from the doorway. 'I'm sorry, Uncle,' she had murmured while bowing in apology. 'I didn't intend to eavesdrop.'
'It would have been difficult to avoid hearing him,' Katashi had answered gruffly. He had then looked away and closed the door, muttering, 'Stay out of sight, Izayoi.'
Izayoi had been only too glad to comply. Thus, when the small delegation consisting of the neighbouring daimyo's son and several retainers had arrived, she had taken InuYasha and fled again to her outdoor refuge.
However, the expression on her uncle's face had frightened her. She felt certain that her relative would soon have to evict her and her son simply to keep peace in the family. And, if he did, what would happen to them then? A lone woman with a newborn would have no chance against the dangers of the roads and the wild. Her mother's family was so far away – and, even if by some chance she made it to their lands, would her reception there be any better?
Nestling further into the folds of the heavy, red robe she wore over her kimono, Izayoi felt her throat tighten as she inhaled the scents clinging to the material – amidst the odours of smoke and ash were traces of the warm, familiar aromas that had belonged to her love. The Inu no Taisho had draped this garment over her before he had sent her out of the burning mansion; somehow, the strange cloth had shielded her and their child from the flames.
She looked upon her infant son who was asleep in a woven basket beside her. Well-fed and warm, InuYasha slept contentedly – only his little face was visible within the folds of the soft blanket wrapped about him.
'My darling boy,' Izayoi whispered. 'What shall become of us?' Izayoi had fought hard against giving into despair, but she had been through so much in the past few weeks. As she gently stroked her baby's silky, white hair with one finger, tears escaped her eyes to trail down her cheeks.
The sound of horses' hooves made her raise her head; she looked toward the courtyard, and saw that Lord Katashi's visitors were leaving. Then, she realised that one of the mounted men had seen her. The young envoy had happened to glance toward the arched opening in the hedge and was now watching her, his curiosity evident. Izayoi held her breath – would he ask who she was, and raise awkward questions? To her relief, he only nodded politely to her before tugging on his horse's reins and turning it toward the gate. Within moments, the group was gone.
Izayoi allowed herself to breathe again. Judging from the men's expressions, the lady assumed their meeting with her uncle had concluded without too much rancour. Then, she saw that she was still being watched.
Katachi and Ichiro stood in the courtyard. The older man was speaking quietly with his steward, but Ichiro's eyes were on Izayoi, and the open hostility on her cousin's face revealed that her sanctuary was still very much in danger.
It was then that the deep tones of an alarm bell rang out, loudly and frantically, and the courtyard erupted into activity.
End of Part I... shall we continue?
