Chapter 1: Heartblood
"And look at me! Eating breakfast with the boogey-man!"
A few seconds later she added, "Who doesn't seem to be finding this even half as terribly funny as I am…"
Sango
Summary: There was nothing left for her, but she was rescued. And now she finds herself in a strange court where tradition is followed so exactly that it's hard to tell that it isn't believed, where the people harbor regrets and sorrows, secrets and promises, the past and the future. And so she will also find the cold lord of this well ordered chaos.
A gentle breeze blew moaning through the trees surrounding the mansion, adding an air of mystery to the bright, sunny day. The silence was overwhelming. Usually a forest is full of noise, life. But no bird spoke in the gorgeous green old growth area surrounding the ancient palace. The inhabitants of the old growth turned away instinctively from the place where all life ceased in the great, swirling purple barrier. The mansion was well protected, allowing no one in, and no one out. The animals were smart enough to stay away. A small band of the best demon slayers, however, had not been.
The boomerang whistled through the air, causing the young huntress to smile at the accuracy of her weapon. She smiled a lot, always cheerful and optimistic. She turned, catching the returning weapon without thought and sending it at another leg of the great spider. She laughed at the tense expression on her brother's face as he sent his weapon, a curved blade at the end of a chain, hurtling of into space and landing with a satisfying if grotesque thud in the flesh of the spider. He smiled at her in askance, and she returned his look with a wink, reassuring. She turned her eyes from Kohaku as his weapon brought the spider down. She caught her returning boomerang with a swift gesture that sent it with beautiful aim towards the head of the spider. It was an exhilarating moment as the weapon hit home and cut off the spider's head in a swift, clean strike.
It was easy. Way too easy to be true, but in the triumph of the moment Sango didn't notice. She was stupid in her joy. Later, she would learn to be smarter, less trusting. In just a few moments, any joy she had ever had would be shattered. But the naive young woman chatting with her father didn't notice. Not until her father was dead by her brother's weapon, and the victorious group erupted into fear and chaos. Her horror was even greater than that of the others. This was her brother! His curved blade rushed through the air, making a soulful noise that accented that of the trees.
"That was our father you killed! Our father!" She tried hopelessly to argue with him, to show him sense. But even as she spoke she could tell how useless it was. His eyes were glazed over with the look of one possessed of a demon. She could cure him, she thought hopelessly. If only she could get him home it would all be okay… but it was impossible. She would not get him home safely, and in her heart she already knew the fate of her village. When she finally felt the inevitable pain of his blade in her back, it came as no surprise. She would die at her brother's hand, and that's all there was to it. Die, or kill him, and harm him was the one thing she could never do. Given the choice to die or hurt him even slightly, it was no choice at all. She had been dead from the second her father's Heartblood flowed free on the ground.
White hair flew in the wind, was the wind as the regal lord of the western lands strode purposefully forward in an even stride, its evenness betraying its remarkable speed. Though the pace showed a certain rhythm of one who has been walking at that speed for a long time and could continue it for a long time more, measured he was traveling at at least 20 or so miles and hour, though he knew nothing of such measurements. All that concerned the demon lord was reaching his destination, and doing so as quickly as possible, though his dignity would not allow him to run. Even Ah-un was too slow for this journey. Just a few hours ago he had learned of the human woman who was prophesied to unite the four lands and become his life companion, and though he scoffed at the idea of a human doing so much, when he learned that he must rescue her he was wise enough to trust the prophecies and hurry. He encountered a strong aversion to turn away as he entered the ancient grove, but a demon lord need not heed such warnings, for he understood at once that the feeling were caused by a barrier set in place, a barrier that was quite powerful indeed.
His cool features dare not betray the disappointment he felt on approaching the battlefield. The danger she was in wasn't a demon, powerful or not. A demon lay dead on the ground, probably only a minion, for it had not been powerful enough to erect the barrier he still sensed. The danger she was in was only a human boy, armored in demon skin and bone. He carried a weapon, and similarly armored humans lay dead on the ground, some of which had a strong family smell to him. To think of it, so did the woman he had come to rescue. He had located her at once by the strong air of destiny about her, and she was strong with the smell of blood and tears. He took a second glance at the boy who had caused such pain and death. He was only a boy. Not a demon, or a corrupt soul… not an ogre in disguise… he was her little brother. Her little brother hurtling his weapon at her, hitting her in the back, eyes glazed over. Eyes glazed over… Sesshoumaru looked closer at the boy facing him and saw in him the unmistakable mark that he should have noticed earlier. He was possessed. He sighed in sorrow and picked her up, putting her over his shoulder in an easy manner. His pure white kimono was stained with blood, ruining the purity and cleanliness that had pervaded his image. Even his silvery hair was stained with her blood, but he seemed not to care. Returning to his easy pace, he walked away from the palace.
Sango blinked, pulling herself out of her dream-state and firmly into reality. It was mid-morning already, she could tell this quite easily. The smell was different than the crisp clean early scent that she so often experienced upon waking. The birds had lost their early morning exuberance and had settled down to a quiet, industrial chirping. Flowers bloomed outside her window, which was wide open, carrying the scents of a garden on the breeze. A man sat in a chair beside her bed. He wore a pure white kimono fastened in a casual manner about his waist. His hair was silver, hanging to mid-back in a loose braid tied back with a blood red ribbon. She realized that she was also dressed in a casual summer kimono, though hers was a pale shade of blue with a red obi. Her hair had been untied from the high ponytail it had been in, and the blood washed off with scented oils. She attempted to pull herself up, and found that her wounds were still fresh. She fell back with a cry, settling into the thick futon mattress and downy pillows, her wounds still smarting. She peeked under her kimono and saw that they had been cleaned and tended, and were spread with a strange smelling ointment. She glanced at the man again, only then noticing the golden eyes that bored straight into her soul. He was a demon! She was the captive of a demon, and completely immobilized by her injuries! She quickly masked her fear and focused on her anger. She would rather die here of her injuries, fighting, and then be murdered in her sleep. The demon did not move, so neither did she, as she plotted a course of action.
He smelled the anger welling up in her as the fear was quickly hidden. She was good. A lesser demon might have missed the fear, but not lord Sesshoumaru. He smiled inside, letting a slight smirk rise to his face. "I don't plan to hurt you, my lady."
She grimaced, attempting once again to rise out of the bed. "Then why have you brought me here, demon?" her face dripped sweat and her wounds began to re open, staining the bandages in blood.
Sesshoumaru looked as calm and cool as ever. "Please, call me Sesshoumaru. I tend to prefer that to demon and the like. And I brought you here because of a prophecy. But the prophecy did not tell me of your name, so I must ask that favor of you."
Sango grinned, if a little ironically. "Left out such an important detail, eh? Well, prophecies are like that… anyway, if you don't already have it, why should I give you my name?"
"Because I saved you, of course. Don't be ungrateful, I deserve at least your name for rescuing you and treating all of your injuries personally." He replied without a pause. This was almost fun, this sparring of words.
"And why would the demon lord of the western lands do such favors for a mere human?"
His smirk faded. "Well, my lady. It does seem to be that you know more about me than I do about you."
Sango's smile widen imperceptibly. She had surprised him, and she knew it. He could still kill her with one swipe of his claws, but she had won a small victory. As long as she could keep him interested in their little game, she would not die. But this advantage could only last so long. Not long enough to heal, or even sleep. She would have to do battle with her wounds just exactly as they were, or trust him, a demon, not to kill her yet. Her smile faded at her options, but she did not give up. "Of course I know you, Sesshoumaru-sama. To be a demon of such high rank, you are well known in the villages of the demon hunters. Yes, demon hunters. I kill your kind, and you kill mine. So tell me again, Sesshoumaru-sama, what reason do you have not to kill me now?"
His smile returned. A demon huntress? How like a prophecy. Always send two unlikely people together, and if they don't kill each other then they can save the world… "You are destined to unite the four lands and end the demon wars. Though I wish not to believe that a mere human has such a destiny, it is unwise to ignore what is written in the ancient western books of destiny, the Ashulate Mikaru. I dare not kill the savior, even if I do not believe in her power."
So she was to be a savior? Sango hid her widening grin. If this was true, if he truly thought this, then she could recover all she wanted and then kill the religious fool. But there was no need to trust him yet, no reason to be foolish. Demons love to toy, to play with their victims' minds and then kill them slowly, letting the betrayal sink in. But what could she do? She readily admitted that she couldn't get up. No chance of fighting in this condition. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, though it had been idling quietly by in the back of her mind for the entire duration of the conversation since she had woken so calmly that morning to find a demon by her bed. She had no power. She would have to trust her greatest enemy. "I can't sit up. I can't hurt you. I am completely at your mercy, and you may very well be playing with my mind. But though I am no fool, I seem to have no alternative but to trust you."
He smiled, knowing that he had been the winner the whole time, but still it was gratifying to hear it. The girl was right, though, she was no fool. She knew that she had no choice but to trust him… He heard a loud hunger sound coming from her stomach. Though she did not know it, she had been asleep for several days, and her body had been working hard to heal her injuries and the fever she had caught when her immune system was down. She must be starving by now. "Then, my lady, shall I have breakfast sent up?"
She looked immensely grateful, and somehow this pleased Sesshoumaru. "Yes, please. Some food would be nice, hold the poison." She smiled. "And If I am to stay her for a while, then you might as well know what to call me. I'm Sango."
"Coral" He smiled. "A beautiful name."
It took only a few minutes for breakfast to appear in their room, brought up by a teenage kitsune wearing a black yukata with a carefully stitched tail hole. He grinned at Sango before departing, leaving the huge, steaming tray on a small table. The table was made of some pale blue stone, artfully carved with scenes of battle so realistically depicted that Sango both hated and admired it the second she had seen it. But her attention was now directed to the tray sitting atop this gruesome piece of furniture. The meal was simple, really, but of such high quality and huge quantities that her mouth just simply could not help watering. There were towering carved wooden bowls of fruit, filled far past the brim with berries of all colors, slices of peach almost falling apart they were so ripe, cherries almost black with pure red shining through, watermelon completely de-seeded, pear slices squeezed with lemon juice to keep them from turning brown… and at the top of this all a small branch of flowering cherry, the delicate pinks completing the bowl with a touch of showiness. Next to the fruit bowl was a plate of steaming rice balls, the rice cooked inhumanly evenly, filled with a paste of salmon, the fishy smells coming out through the rice to tantalize the nose. Then there was the yakitori, fire grilled just enough, made of chicken so tender and fresh it could almost have been eaten raw. Sesshoumaru unloaded the tray. The second it was empty the kitsune was back, still grinning, to take it away.
Sesshoumaru stood, and Sango moved back a little instinctively. He raised one hand up slowly and took a step closer, speaking in a soft voice as one might sooth a child.
"Sango, I don't plan to hurt you. Just let me help you sit up to eat!"
Sango relaxed a little, realizing that if he planned to kill her now she would be dead, and she most certainly could not sit up by herself. "Thank you, Sesshoumaru-sama." She replied, her voice so calmly not betraying her fear of this Demon who had rescued her.
The food refreshed her, brought her back. She was whole again. Sango hadn't realized just how hungry she had become, how long she had gone without eating until the first bite of that delicious food was in her mouth. Still, she ate slowly, carefully testing for poison at each bite as she had been trained, and not gulping it hungrily as she wished so much to do. She rolled the food in her mouth carefully, tasting each dish before eating, eating in small portions and slowly. She knew the consequences, and didn't want to spend the morning throwing up. Still, the food made her situation more clear in her mind. And it was hilarious. She began to giggle.
Sesshoumaru watched the careful way in which she ate. It was quite admirable how she tasted each morsel carefully before swallowing it. He knew there was no poison in the food, but still she put several questionable morsels aside, refusing to eat food that might be poisoned. She started to giggle. Strange… he thought, curiously.
"My lady Sango, if I may ask, what is it that you find so hilarious?"
She grinned.
"It's just… everyone in our village used to boast about being the one to kill you one day… but really, we were terrified."
He frowned at the first part of her statement, but relaxed at the second. Terrified, that was better.
"You were the story mothers told children to scare them. 'If you don't eat your vegetables, Sesshoumaru Of The West will get you…'" She laughed a little at this.
Sesshoumaru's frown deepened. He really wasn't the type to go on patrol for bad children to eat…
She giggled a little. "And look at me! Eating breakfast with the boogey-man!"
A few seconds later she added, "Who doesn't seem to be finding this even half as terribly funny as I am…" She broke off into hysterical laughter.
Sesshoumaru sighed. The girl was quite clearly insane. Well, a stomach wound would do that to a person… his fears were realized when he saw red blood seeping into the blue of her kimono. Sighing again, the proud lord of the western lands stepped forward to help an injured human… one who came from a village of humans who boasted to kill him… and he had not known of this. Disturbing. He did not like the insolence of plots to take his life, but one such plot by a village of humans was beyond insolence. Suddenly it clicked. This was not a new threat, but an old one. The girl was from the demon slayer village. The demon and the slayer… this prophecy did not intend to make his life easy at all…
The sun shone. She was out in the world, always had been. It was natural to wander, free, with her hiraikotsu strapped to her back. She paused for a second to point out a fox running across their path. He laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound… The day wore on, the sun seeming to fly through the sky too fast as darkness fell. He was tired now, so she stopped, setting up camp with a huge roaring fire. There were no enemies here, no need to hide. She was sick and tired of hiding by now… She pulled out her dinner from the packs she had unstrapped from their backs. The meat crackled over the fire, and she began to fell the hunger of a days hiking get to her. She smiled and turned to him… pain hit her from the back as his weapon swung behind her. His eyes were empty, not those of the boy she loved… She fell to the ground, the blood draining out of her. She couldn't live, couldn't heal. He would be with her forever. "Sango" a voice called from the sky. White hair… "Sango, wake up!" she drifted free of her body, free of the pain… "Sango…"
She awoke with a start, Sesshoumaru leaning over the bed.
"Sesshoumaru…" She said quietly.
"How are you…"
He smirked. "How am I what?
"God." She whispered, the aftereffects of her dream lingering. "You're god…"
Somehow, Sesshoumaru could barely manage to be shocked. Her voice was so quiet, strangely accepting, as she spoke such preposterous words. He said the only thing that he could think of to say, despite how silly he knew it would sound.
"Am not."
She woke fully and blushed. "I… I was dreaming…" she stammered, the spell broken. "Of course you aren't god, just a dream… a strange, strange dream…"
That was a relief. The girl hadn't snapped. The prophecies hadn't left him with an insane demon huntress. But what kind of dream had she been having? He decided to voice this question. "My lady, what sort of dream did you have that would leave you with such an idea?" He inquired delicately, trying not to pry or offend her, and wondering why he cared.
"Like I said, a strange one."
"But what sort of dream was it, if I may rephrase my question?"
"You did not rephrase it at all, my lord, but if you insist I will tell you. I died. He killed me again. All day it was as it was. We were happy. We wandered the woods, brother and sister. But he killed me. He betrayed me. He changed, and he hates me! And you called. It was your voice calling me into the skies as my soul left the restraints of my body. You said, "Wake up". "Sango, Wake up!" and I woke into the skies, and then back into this world. My lord, if I may make a suggestion, reduce the lightness of these beds, lest more innocents be disillusioned upon waking."
How dare she speak to him so informally! Finally he allowed himself to think what had been floating in his mind since she woke, almost a week ago. She was disrespectful, vain to an extent he had never witnessed before. One minute she was calling him god, the next minute she was making suggestions on the quality of his hospitality. It was almost too much. Yet he could muster no anger at her. Somehow, her cheek made all the sense in the world. It was right, somehow. And the more he thought on it, the more it proved true. She knew that he either had a very good reason not to kill her, in which case disrespect would most defiantly not get her killed, or she would be killed anyway, in which case disrespect would also make a total of absolutely no change in her future. She understood him better than he had thought she did, understood his opinion of humans, and in a way even his motives, or a simplified form of them. It irritated him. Humans weren't supposed to be smart. He felt comfortable in his prejudice, the same way humans felt comfortable in their beliefs that cows were beneath them. But then this girl came along. She was not how he pictured humans. she was too intelligent. She was smarter than some of his demon courtiers, though that was not saying much. She was smarter than most of them, which most definitely was. He was, to say the least, impressed. She was a person. A person trapped in a weak body that did not befit her. She deserved better, much much much better. He wished she were a demon. This whole thing would be much easier to handle if she were a demon… but ever stubborn, she did not change into one.
Sango watched him, wondering why he had made no response to her story. No, she should not have expected a response of any kind. It was silly of her, really. Silly to think that he would care about her silly dream even if he had taken enough interest to inquire. She was letting her guard down around him, letting it down too easily in the house of a kind seeming enemy. It was dangerous to think that he would care, to think anything about him other than how to avoid getting killed. She had to heal. It seemed that she would not be killed in her sleep, seeing as she had slept twice, for intervals of as long as several days, in his demonic presence and yet still lived. She was almost healed now. The wound on her back was scabbed over now, healing itself slowly but surely from the amount of rest she was getting. But she had been in bed so long that her muscles would have weakened, and the wound could open any time. She was not healed, not in top shape. She would have to spend a few more weeks in his company before she had to kill him. Growing to like him was the worst possible thing that could happen at the time, she thought. Better keep her distance, not get too close. He was to easy to talk to. Better limit that. She glanced up to see him sitting in his chair, framed by the afternoon sun, and for a second all she could think of was how much like an angel he looked.