Sesshoumaru's first instinct was to resist; he had invited the old fire-demon to their council of war to discuss the possibility of creating new and better concealments, smaller items that masked youki as well as appearance. When Kagome frowned thoughtfully and sided with Toutousai, though, he found himself reconsidering. Suddenly the senile old geezer's crazy ramblings became their gameplan.
It took almost no time whatsoever to arrange an address live on national TV. At the promise that the famously reclusive celebrity would be giving a public statement about the anti-youkai movement, all the major news networks had leaped on it; it was publicized for days, and tremendous amounts of air-time and newspaper ink were spent speculating on what he was going to say and why he'd chosen to be so uncharacteristically public with his opinions. It was unanimously assumed that he would be speaking in support of the coalitions. Every other public figure who'd made similar statements had supported the anti-youkai movements in one way or another, whether or not they condoned the most recent violence; it was the only acceptable stance to take.
Sesshoumaru fidgeted idly with his tie as the time drew near; Kagome smoothed it for him, her gentle hands calming him.
"Kagome," he said in a low voice, gripping her hand. "This could go badly."
"I know," she whispered, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. He took a breath; he had to tell her now. There might not be another chance.
"There is a plane ready, in case you and the children need to get to safety quickly." He wasn't looking at her. She frowned, tugging gently on his tie to get his attention.
"You're coming with us if we go." He could hear the panic in her voice, and it made his heart clench. He shook his head.
"I am Lord of the West. As long as there are youkai to protect, I will protect them."
She caught his face in her hands, and he was shocked by the ferocity of her scowl. "I will not leave you," she hissed. "If you stay, I stay. If anyone has to run away, my mother will take the children."
"Kagome—" She cut him off with a kiss. He would not be deterred. "It is too dangerous—"
"Sesshoumaru," she interrupted. "Shut up." She kissed him again, hard. There was so much he wanted to say; why hadn't he said it before?
A network representative was waving at him; it was time. He met her eyes one last time.
"I love you," she whispered fiercely, her eyes not leaving his face. He found that he couldn't speak. She let out a choke of laughter and waved him away. "Go get 'em, tiger."
He nodded mutely and strode out onto the stage that had become his battlefield.
...
"Youkai are the greatest threat that human society has ever known," he started, his low voice rumbling through the packed auditorium. Silence greeted his words. "So say the newspapers."
"The newspapers are wrong." A low murmur went through the crowd – dissatisfaction, surprise. He waited until there was silence again.
"The greatest threat humanity has ever known," he continued, his voice ringing, "is fear. It is fear that drives good men, well-intentioned men, to hunt children as though they were animals, to lock innocent people away like criminals or beasts."
"They tell you," he continued, this time ignoring the swelling sea of whispers, "that youkai are among you in secret, undermining your values, chipping away at the foundations of your society."
"I will tell you one truth: youkai are among you, without a doubt. They are your taxi drivers, your politicians, your waitresses, your bosses, your friends, your confidantes ..." He glanced involuntarily at Kagome, who was standing just off-stage, hands clasped in front of her. "Your lovers."
"Some are fools; some are weak; some are cruel." He looked meaningfully around the room. "Just like humans."
"But there is another truth, one which has been overlooked: youkai want nothing more than to live. They want a world in which their children can grow up without fear; a world in which they can carve a small bit of happiness for themselves, and build a future with those they love." He sighed, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, they were hard, determined.
"But today, I have not come to you to share difficult truths which no one will heed, nor my own irrelevant opinions.
"I have come with a challenge." He allowed the word to hang in the air for a moment, building a silent anticipation. His gaze swept the auditorium before he continued.
"To humans, I say this: listen to your reason, trust your judgment. Your friends are as true to you today as they were yesterday. If your faithful, honorable companions are youkai, that means youkai can be faithful and honorable. If your kindly neighbor is a youkai, that means youkai can be kind. Do not fear the unknown; learn it, and see that your fear is groundless.
"To youkai, I say this: you have earned the trust of your human neighbors a hundred times over as individuals. This fear, this terror that drives humans to hunt you – it's not fear of you, it's fear of a faceless, shadowy collective. Give yourselves faces. Reveal yourselves; let your friends and neighbors see you for what you truly are. Give them a chance to stand by you."
He took a deep breath, looking at the camera so directly that everyone watching felt as though he were meeting their eyes.
"I'll start."
The hall fell silent; no one breathed in the stillness as he deliberately held out his wrist and removed his concealment. He shut his eyes as the transformation washed over him; his hair lengthened to his knees and paled to moonlit silver, his stripes and crescent moon appeared, his nails and teeth stretched into claws and fangs.
He opened golden eyes and fearlessly met the gaze of every viewer in Japan.
"My name is Taisho Sesshoumaru, and I am youkai."
