Disclaimer: I own none of them, except for the staff at the Nishi household.

Author's note: I lost count of how many false starts I've made. Honestly, I've never been this constipated with a chapter before. *sigh* Oh, the chapter title and a line in Inupapa's dialogue allude to a poem. I will give karma to anyone who can name the poet. *winks*

Now, if I ran roughshod over Japanese etiquette in the relations between Izayoi and Sesshoumaru as stepfamily, please let me know. I'm hardly Japanese or else I wouldn't be fumbling about like this. I hope their interaction doesn't come across too idealistic or sappy.

THANK YOU! to Andi for giving this a once over, and for being a willing sounding board :)

Summary: (A/U) Surprises from the past and fruits do not fall too far from the tree.

The Winged Life

Beyond the edges of the city centre was a buffer zone of interconnected parks boasting shady trees and winding tracks for joggers, cyclists and skaters. In parks were open-air stages floating over large ponds for the occasional performance or festival too. This was the green heart of the city, where its denizens go to temporarily escape the frenetic pace and remember, once upon a time, that the land was not all tar and concrete. Weekends would find families stretched on picnic blankets, the children gambolling in the grass and lovers watching clouds go by. Beyond this oasis was where his father and stepmother lived. It was a district filled with large private houses surrounded by sprawling compounds. A leisurely ride from the city centre to the Nishi estate did not take more than twenty minutes on a good day – close enough for convenience, far enough to be removed from the hubbub.

He made a little detour to the conservation district close to the city centre where quaint low-rise structures of wood, stone and glazed clay tiles had been restored and preserved. The modest, charming buildings housed family-run businesses that were a few generations old. Many of the proprietors lived in the rooms above their shops. There, he patronised a shop, whose deceptively unremarkable appearance belied its popularity, and made a purchase of three beautifully crafted pieces of Izayoi's favourite seasonal sweetmeats. Though humans ran many of the establishments, youkai tenants have revealed themselves to have been around for the same number of generations, and youkai specialty shops were quite popular, especially with tourists.

The maid had opened the door to Sesshoumaru's ringing earlier, greeted him warmly and ushered him within. Natsumi, a long-time staff, informed him that his father was not at home at the moment - something he knew even before the door was opened - and that his stepmother was resting. This was the part of the house where the family actually lived, where the spaces were no less tasteful but simply more intimate in scale. Those who were not family, staff or close friends come in from the formal entrance, and were hardly allowed past the internal courtyard that demarcated the two sections – the public and the personal - into the individual rooms beyond. Just outside the doors of Izayoi-san's private sitting room, he paused and frowned. He could sense that Izayoi-san was not well but he lifted his hand and rapped on the door anyway.

"Yes?" came his stepmother's voice from beyond the door.

"It's me, Izayoi-san."

"Come in, come in!"

Izayoi was sitting on her Eileen Gray daybed, cradling a book in hands wrapped in thermal gloves. At fifty-four, she was still trim, reasonably fit and usually gave the impression that she was younger than her actual age. A few years ago, arthritis began plaguing her hands and she had been on prescribed pain relief medication since then. She preferred not to take those too often, favouring heat therapy instead. The smile that graced her face crinkled the edges of her clear brown eyes and Sesshoumaru's sharp vision couldn't help but note that the fine lines that had begun to appear on certain parts of her face. Too many reminders of their frailty in one day. He tried not to feel too distressed.

"Izayoi-san," Sesshoumaru greeted as he closed the door. "Forgive me for dropping by unannounced. Are you well?"

Izayoi lifted a gloved hand and waved it, partly to dispel his apologies and partly to display her source of discomfort. "Apart from this, I'm quite well." Abruptly, her delight at his presence and his little present of cakes shifted to alarm when her gaze fell upon his wrist. "Sesshoumaru! What happened to you?"

Sesshoumaru glanced at his forearm. The blood still caked his limb but the furrows that the panther youkai had gouged into his flesh were already healing. The wounds had already crusted over, looking days old instead of less than an hour old.

"It's all right. I'm tougher than I look, you know."

Izayoi shook her head and laid her book aside, giving him a look that made him feel six years old again. She inclined her head in the direction of an armchair of leather and tubular steel, indicating he should sit and start talking or, Kami help him, she would turn him over her knees and spank a confession out of him, whether her hands hurt or not. Never mind the fact that he was twenty-nine and towered thirteen inches over her in his bare feet. Of course, she had never actually laid her hands on him before; 'The Look' did the job just fine as he hated disappointing or upsetting her.

He smiled sheepishly and sat down, gathered his thoughts and recounted what happened just before he arrived. When he was done talking, he leaned back with drooping shoulders, partially relieved to have unburdened his thoughts to her.

"Do you care for the young lady that much?"

Sesshoumaru said nothing, which, to Izayoi, was a gesture that spoke volumes.

"It is in your right to feel and act that way if you do, if you have established a personal relationship with her. Sesshoumaru, we know youkai nature is vastly different from human nature."

Again, he remained silent, eyes averted from her own. Goodness, thought Izayoi with affectionate exasperation, it's not as if he's a teenager with a crush! Why in the world is he so bothered… and so hesitant?

"Sesshoumaru," Izayoi began gently, "do you recall the day I brought Inuyasha home from the hospital?"

He remembered. He remembered the anticipation and the excitement brimming over when he saw the car pulling up the long driveway. Izayoi had been detained a full week at the hospital, having had to undergo surgery to deliver Inuyasha. Inuyasha had been a breech baby and a big one. There was no way to force the child out through the birth canal without putting Izayoi at a terrible risk; the cartilage holding the pelvis together at the pubis could give way too much or tear completely. If the latter happened, Izayoi may not be able to walk for a long while. When the his father wheeled Izayoi and Inuyasha into the house, Izayoi's fear and sadness, coupled with Gintaro's grim mood caused Sesshoumaru's ebullient feelings to evaporate, replacing it with dread. The incongruous tang of blood only added to the oddness. His father and stepmother greeted him with game faces and forced smiles, holding him close as they introduced him to his new sibling. Something had distressed the adults, but he wasn't privy to the reason, despite his persistent queries.

"We never told you what happened just before we brought your brother home, did we?"

"Hnn. I've always wondered…" he murmured in response.

The light of the dying sun slanted into the cool room through full-height glass windows, the lurid golden glow diffused by sheer floor-length day curtains and a short, disturbing anecdote almost three decades old unfolded.

"I was waiting for your father at the outdoor atrium of the hospital, looking forward to go home to you; I couldn't wait to get you boys acquainted. The late Kaede-san was with me. Do you remember her?" Sesshoumaru nodded as Izayoi faltered, her lips pressing together tightly for a moment. "We were… accosted… by a group of youkai. They have been waiting for days for my discharge. They surrounded us and called Inuyasha names I do not care to repeat today. They called me…" she sucked in a breath and closed her eyes, shaking her head. "They deemed your father weak for sullying the Nishi bloodline by marrying a human."

Sesshoumaru's fingers curled into fists and an ugly emotion twisted his innards. His gaze was transfixed on the human woman before him; she was the only mother he could remember and she had shown him nothing but kindness and maternal affection, and this revelation set him on edge. He knew that times were certainly quite different then. He had heard enough snide remarks about Izayoi from his maternal grandparents when he was a child, felt the leashed animosity they exuded whenever occasions placed his stepmother and his late mother's parents in the same room. He was sure that a few of Izayoi's friends or kin may have made the same remarks about his family and her marriage to Gintaro Nishi. As he grew older, the unsubtle comments about human influence making the Nishi heir feeble made Sesshoumaru grit his teeth, and he vowed to be strong so he could protect the woman he revered as a parent. The easy acceptance between the two species that his generation took for granted had just taken root then, despite treaties and accords being in place for nearly a century. Back then, there were still vocal factions from both species that did not agree with youkai and human being on equal footing.

"Those youkai became bolder and closed around us. Kaede-san, fearing for Inuyasha and myself, conjured a barrier around us. It turned ugly. They began raising their voices, damning your father for having a miko in his employment. I was so, so scared. People were standing around, staring. No one dared to do anything to intervene, fearing for their own lives."

Kaede-baa-chan's presence had always hummed with an undercurrent of spiritual power and the pieces clicked in Sesshoumaru's head. So that was why chichi-ue engaged a retired miko to attend to Izayoi-san; she was a bodyguard of a different kind.

"When you father arrived, he ripped into the troublemakers. Someone called the police and when the officers arrived, none of the instigators were conscious and all of them had at least one broken bone or one ruptured organ, I wager." Izayoi's voice dropped to a soft murmur and she leaned forward. "It was terrifying to watch your father toss those youkai around like that. His eyes… his eyes were red and he was snarling. I have never seen him in such a rage and I pray I never will again. But I know he still had control of himself… or else they would all be dead." She rubbed a gloved hand against her throat and closed her eyes briefly as if to shut out the image from long ago. "Despite those ears of his, Inuyasha slept through it all."

Sesshoumaru barked out a surprised laugh at her abrupt flippancy, feeling the tension uncoil from his shoulders. That's just like Inuyasha. And this is just like Izayoi-san to deflect the gravity of the moment, especially when it concerns her own feelings.

"I don't know what your reservations are, Sesshoumaru, but surely it is nothing that cannot be overcome? And I know it is not prejudice that is stopping you." Izayoi's smile was small and somewhat uncertain as she tugged the gloves from her hands. Flexing and curling her fingers, she sighed in relief, glad of that the pain had subsided considerably. She stood up and walked towards the door.

"I'm going to talk to Kayo-san about dinner. You are staying for dinner, right? Your father is bound to be late."

With Inuyasha stationed in a neighbouring country in the region with his family until the end of the year, he was sure Izayoi missed their visits. Sesshoumaru stood too, moving to open the door for her.

"Would I miss the chance to sample Kayo-san's cooking?"

Izayoi made a face at him. "It's a wonder you can eat and not put on an ounce."

"Blame it on youkai metabolism."

"Your young lady better be good in the kitchen," she stated next, in a tone that was half-teasing, half-warning, eliciting a groan from Sesshoumaru. If she's unravelling you this much, she had better be good to you, or I will turn into the in-law from hell.

"Izayoi-san, I've yet to cross that bridge!"

"Then for the love you bear your dear, aging stepmother, Sesshoumaru, please start crossing the bridge soon. Rin-chan could use cousins."

Cousins. Plural. He resisted the urge to wince.

He sat on a sturdy branch of an old tree, leaning against its solid trunk. Head tilted back, Sesshoumaru contemplated the early evening sky and the surrounding landscape. The tree was one of many that dotted the grounds of his ancestral estate. Situated on lands that were slightly elevated from the surroundings, one could command a quite a view from certain points, especially up on the limbs of these trees. In his childhood days, the trees afforded places to play with Inuyasha; the branches were sturdy enough to bear the rambunctious antics of two children with youkai strength. As they grew older, the trees became places to hide and to think, much like what he was doing now. In the near horizon, he could see the skyscrapers thrusting heavenward, aglow within and without, illuminated by their own lights and the lights of so many streetlamps and signs - a fairytale metropolis from a poet's dream.

He could sense his father coming closer, but before he could jump to the ground to receive his father's presence properly, there was a rush of preternatural wind and his father was already on the branch just above his, swinging his legs smugly.

"Not bad for an old dog, eh?" Gintaro grinned down at his eldest.

"Chichi-ue," Sesshoumaru sat up straighter and inclined his head.

"I heard what happened. And it's not from Izayoi," Gintaro stated matter-of-factly. "When were you going to tell us that you've met a nice young lady?"

News sure do travel fast, Sesshoumaru though wryly, especially when you're a son of this household. He declined to answer his father's insinuation, opting instead to ask his own question: "Why are we so drawn to them, when they are such fleeting creatures?"

Gintaro grew solemn and was silent for a considerably long time, his thoughts gravitating to the ancestor that his eldest son was named after.

High up in the Nishi family tree was a renowned youkai lord, born almost a millennia ago – the first Lord of the Dogs. Ironically, through this ancestor's iron-fisted rule, there was peace and stability in the lands, and while he had human subjects, his indifference to them bordered on aversion. He left them well alone, passing judgement only when he needed to. Other than that, he neither persecuted them nor protected them. Records, in form of half-complete tales and myths, spoke of a dark threat rising in the kingdom - a human, bent on usurping power in all and any forms, had absorbed a horde of youkai into his soul and became a deceitful, murdering hanyou.

As the tales went, Lord Sesshoumaru of the distant past personally set out to hunt and destroy this threat to his kingdom. In a battle against this dark hanyou's minions, the sheer number of his opponents overwhelmed the lord, but he was saved from certain fate by timely arrows fired by a powerful young miko, which decimated the youkai army greatly. She, too, was hunting the hanyou; in his quest to become powerful, the hanyou had killed many of the miko's friends, family and fellow villagers. Under normal circumstances, the lord would have dismissed her presence and went on his quest alone, confident of his victory. But he had felt the intensity of her powers and recognised that she could be a tool for the hanyou's destruction. The two went through many trials together in their mission, and as time went by, tenuous alliance became grudging tolerance, which in turn grew into tentative respect and admiration, which, at last, became something both felt intensely but could never act upon or give tongue to. In the end, the youkai lord and the miko vanquished the evil hanyou together and went their separate ways. After all, he was a dog spirit and she was a priestess. They both have duties to fulfil. Besides, whoever heard of a youkai lord and a miko consorting? It was just not done.

The lord took a noble youkai lady as his wife and tried to put the miko from his mind. He ruled for many decades, until one day, he heard from gossip and hearsay that his one-time comrade and his life-long secret love, the miko, had passed on to the next world. On that day, he ceded his title to his first-born son and left the palace. Beyond that day, there were no more tales of the fearsome Lord Sesshoumaru.

It seemed that the dogs lords are doomed from the very start, Gintaro thought as his mind spun around the old, old stories.

"How do you deal with it, chichi-ue?" Sesshoumaru's voice pulled Gintaro from his reverie.

"Don't mourn them before they're gone, my son. If you seek to bind a joy to yourself, it will only make you miserable."

When his words were met with silence from the branch below, Gintaro locked his knees and flipped backwards so that he was hanging upside down on the branch like a trapeze artist, almost nose to nose with Sesshoumaru.

"And since you are so aware that they have relatively brief lives, stop dragging your feet and wasting time." With that, he somersaulted off the branch, landing neatly on his feet and began to walk back to the house, pausing to toss a command over his shoulder. "Invite her over for dinner. Soon."

There was little to stand in his way, except for his own vacillation. If there was even a remote chance that Kagome would go through what his stepmother did in the first decade or so of her married life, then he'd rather not subject her to it. But Kagome will not be subjected to the prejudice Izayoi had suffered and if anyone dared to… well… he would gladly rectify such situations with his personal touch.

Sesshoumaru closed his eyes and pictured the few other women had ever gone out with in place of Kagome, lying injured on the pavement. Had it been any of them, Sesshoumaru would be anxious enough for their health but doubted that he would have gone as far as to wanting to gut the one who harmed her. And it was not because he was cavalier with those women. In the end, every one of those relationships would plateau and they would part ways. Sometimes he would initiate the end, sometimes they would.

Finding out the depth of his regard for Kagome in this manner was startling, to put it mildly…

What else had Sesshoumaru expected to hear from his father, besides words that summarized Gintaro's acceptance of such an eventuality? There was nothing anyone could do to cheat the final parting, and there was really no use dwelling on it so much so that it impeded all action.

With a sigh, he pulled out his phone, dialled Kagome's number and stretched himself along the length of the near horizontal branch. Her mobile phone survived the impact, it seemed. It rang once, twice, thrice... then her voice, somewhat fuzzy and huskier than usual, answered.

Sesshoumaru smiled up into the night sky and wished Kagome a good evening.