Hello and welcome to my first ever sesskag fic! I absolutely loooove this pairing, so I'll do my best. Updates will be sporadic at best, but I'll try to make them somewhat regular. Thank you for reading, and please review!
KAZUKI - From Japanese 一 (kazu) "one" or 和 (kazu) "harmony" combined with 輝 (ki) "radiance, shine" or 希 (ki) "hope".
In the new world order, humans are respected.
Gone were the days where men hid in their huts, scared and cowering under the affairs of youkai. Modern Tokyo was a sprawling metropolis, built by man and protected by man.
Atsuko Higurashi reflected upon the progress of the human race as he sat in his chair, waiting for his day to begin. He looked around his office, a spacious, tastefully elegant suite with a stunning panoramic view of Tokyo, and felt both pride and unease.
A glass box sat beside a picture of Atsuko and his wife. What looked like a broken scrap of paper, covered in black kanji, was suspended inside. The gold plate on the corner of the box read, the first subjugation. 1994.
Everything was possible only thanks to this paper, and many more like it. Worn as a bracelet around the wrist, they acted as a seal for both the offensive powers and the disguising abilities of youkai, forcing them into a weak and ostentatious state where plucking them out was easier than child's play.
In the first years, hundreds of youkai were killed immediately. It had been Atsuko's brother, the one who invented the subjugation technique, who had spoken out against it. Because of his status and influence, the indiscriminate killing of youkai had been grudgingly ceased and banned.
Atsuko looked out into the cityscape. Tokyo was spotless, the houses big and regal, the commercial areas all but glimmering in their decadence.
The root of Atsukos unease, however, was the area on the outskirts, where a single road marked the end of the human sector and the beginning of the designated youkai area. It had been a compromise when his brother had called for the end of youkai hunting—they would be segregated. People feared them too much to have to live amongst them. Proponents of segregation argued that it would be the best thing for both races, and his brother had agreed only because it seemed the only option.
The youkai area today was shanty and underdeveloped. It was amazing how abruptly the change appeared from here: on one side of Kazuki Street the houses were still large and imposing, and on the other side, they were dirty and haphazard, one strong breeze away, it seemed, from toppling over.
"Prime Minister?"
His secretary peeked in the office.
"Yes, Ms. Mikaya."
"Your first meeting is in twenty minutes, sir."
He nodded, and Ms. Mikaya retreated, shutting the door softly behind her.
Atsuko pushed his anxious thoughts away as he shifted his papers and brought out the proper documents for his meeting. He was doing the best he could, and he hoped it would be enough.
Miko are revered.
Kagome fumbled around with her priestess dress, trying, unsuccessfully, to find which way her head went.
Her flailing attracted the attention of an attendant, who called, alarmed. "Miko! You should have called one of the girls."
"It's a dress¸ Ayame," Kagome grumbled, still extricating herself from whatever hole she had crawled into. "I'm a big girl; I can get dressed by myself."
"Forgive me, Miko, but it doesn't appear this way at the moment," Ayame noted, a small smile on her lips.
Grudgingly accepting the truth of Ayame's words, Kagome sighed and went limp, arms still akimbo inside the darned garment. "Fine. Help me."
Ayame laughed while she pulled the dress off of her lady's head. "The people would faint if they ever saw you in such a state, my lady. You are our princess now; it would not do for you to be so unruly."
Kagome bit her lip as Ayame sorted out the crumpled mess that had once been a dress. She was the last person in the world suited to be a public figure, but her father had been the Peacemaker, and her uncle now the Prime Minister. No matter what she did, she would always be in the spotlight, a place Kagome thought she ought never to even be close to.
But in tumultuous times, people like to have something to rally around, someone to look up to. The Higurashis provided that for these transitional times, the years in between eras. Despite her awkwardness and her stage fright, she would power through, if only for the good of her people.
"Here, my lady," Ayame smiled, holding out the dress like a tunnel with one clear opening so that it was clear where Kagome's head would go.
Kagome sighed and tried to smile as she donned on the dress that was her crown.
Youkai are hated.
A catchy pop song played over the speakers as Sesshoumaru made his way down the aisles. He moved as fast and as efficiently as he could—this was one of the few integrated stores right on KazukiStreet, and he didn't want to do something stupid in front of the humans who wouldn't hesitate to turn him in. Being around them made him on edge.
Grabbing a carton of milk and Inuyasha's requested 6-pack of beer, he swiftly moved to stand in the cashier line, eager to get out as soon as he could.
"Ahem."
Sesshoumaru turned around at the sound of someone impatiently clearing their throat and saw a middle aged woman, a human, holding a full shopping basket and looking—glaring—at him, expectantly.
"My apologies," he said quietly, before allowing the woman to go in front of him in line.
While he waited for her to place her purchases on the conveyor belt, he reflected on the fact that, a hundred years ago, he would've slit her throat on the spot.
Hell, a hundred years ago he wouldn't be shopping for his own groceries.
He looked down at his own basket, half empty and filled with only the bare essentials, and all cheap, generic brands. A hundred years ago he would've fired his cooks for feeding him crap like this.
But pride is a quality reserved for the rich and powerful, neither of which now described him. And if nothing else, Sesshoumaru was practical. If he had to wait longer in line, so be it. Anything for survival.
Honestly, he disgusted himself sometimes. But that was what life was now.
Finally getting to the front of the line, he succeeded in checking out without incident and breathed a sigh of relief as the automatic doors slid shut behind him. It was a good day.
Any day without complications is a good day.
As he began the walk back to he and his brother's shared apartment, he heard a sound. Shouting and groaning, coming from the alley behind the grocery store.
Before he could stop himself, he looked in and saw a group of human men beating what looked like a bright orange sack. His nose, though severely weakened, was still sensitive enough to tell him that it was actually a youkai. Young, by the smell. A kitsune, by the coloring, and by the howls the boy was emitting.
He told himself that the smart thing to do was to walk away. Charity was another quality only the rich could afford, and he didn't need any more trouble in his life.
"Yeah, you like that? You fucking little shit," one of the men jeered, aiming a kick at the defenseless kit.
Another man guffawed. "That'll teach you to steal from us. We'll fucking kill you."
The boy mewed and cried with each hit.
Walk away, Sesshoumaru, he told himself even as he was walking toward their group.
"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, before mentally kicking himself. This was a bad decision; he could feel it.
But looking down at the bruised and cowering fox, he knew he had no other choice.
The men turned to look at him. "None of your business," a skinny one in the corner spat.
His eyes narrowed. "It is very dishonorable for a group of grown men to attack a little boy."
A fat one, the one closest to Sesshoumaru, advanced until he was almost touching the dog youkai. "This little fucker stole oranges from my backyard. He deserves this, don't you think?"
Sesshoumaru wrinkled his nose. For all their wealth, he'd expected humans to be better at not smelling like sewage water.
"So you," the man continued, barring his cigarette-stained teeth, "stay out of it. Unless you want some of this too."
One last chance, Sesshoumaru. Everything in his brain told him to run away now, before this all went out of hand.
But before he knew what was happening, his fist made contact with the fat man's face.
The man staggered backwards, and coughed. Still clutching his cheek, he looked up at Sesshoumaru, stunned.
"You mother fucking—"
And then the men were on him, fists flying.
For the umpteenth time, Sesshoumaru cursed the ring of paper around his wrist. If it were not there, these humans wouldn't even present a challenge for him.
As it was, he struggled to stay afloat. Six on one is not much of a fair fight, but he was doing admirably, considering.
But, even so, he knew he wouldn't be able to last very long.
He felt his inner rage bubble up against his temples, only to be stifled by the bracelet. He roared, his beast enraged by its prolonged subjugation.
In his anger he aimed a punch into one of the men's cheek, but his target ducked, and his fist went flying forcefully into the skinny man's neck. The group stopped abruptly as the man crumpled to the floor. Blood spout from his lips, and his eyes were open and unseeing.
Everyone was still for a moment, and then one of them bent down to feel the man's pulse.
He then turned and stared, accusingly, at Sesshoumaru. "Yo-you broke his neck!"
Sesshoumaru used his arm to wipe the blood off his face. He heard murmuring behind his back and turned to see that a crowd had gathered by the mouth of the alley. The humans were all staring at him, terrified. The woman from the grocery line had a cell phone cupped to her cheek.
The sound of police sirens sounded in the distance.
Fuck, Sesshoumaru thought eloquently.
But a hanyou's position never changes.
"Pass the ball, dummy!"
"Who are you calling dummy, dummy?" Inuyasha threatened, but passed the ball anyway. Koyagi, a spirited little hare youkai, caught the ball and effortlessly jumped high into the air, shooting an easy three-pointer.
The hare's team cheered while the other team groaned, and complaints of cheating were tossed around. Inuyasha was too tall and too old to play with them, they would always complain. But so far he hasn't been kicked out yet.
"Alright, alright, guys," Inuyasha called, wiping his sweaty forehead with his sleeve. "Time for a break, I think."
A few people muttered incoherent complaints, but everyone went and sat on the bench anyway.
They all chatted about sports and school as Inuyasha sat down across from them. He played with the kids well, but in the end, he didn't belong. He was, after all, much older than all of the grade school kids, but honestly, he could never keep up with full youkai his age.
Just then, a breeze flew by, blowing off his baseball cap. It fell on the other side of the court, and Inuyasha cursed under his breath before jumping over to pick it up. When he set it back on his head, he could feel the eyes of the youkai kids on his back.
And then the whispering starts.
Every time they see his ears, they whisper amongst themselves for a few days behind his back, and then they forget. And then it happens again, and they're reminded once more of his…situation. He can tell it makes them nervous—they've been taught to fear humans, after all, and his ears branded him as half a monster. And, as kids, they didn't really know what that meant.
"Koyagi!"
Everyone looked over to see Koyagi's mother, a haughty looking hare youkai with her hair in a strict bun, peeking in through the chain-link fence.
"It's time to go home."
"But it's only thr—" he bagan to whine, but a stern look from his mother shut him up. "Fine, fine," he sighed as her bounded away.
"Reaching for her son's hand, the woman turned and said to the other kids, "all of your mothers want you to go home too," while giving Inuyasha a disapproving glare.
One by one, the children left, some waving a lukewarm goodbye to their strange friend.
He watched them go, his ears drooping under his cap.
"Feh." One day, he half-heartedly joked to himself as he began the trek home, we'll take over. That'll be the day.