Nee-chan: Big sister.

Nii-chan: Big brother. Although Souta is Mitsukai's uncle, she thinks of him more as a brother. This is mainly due to the fact that Souta is barely ten years her senior. I'm noting this here so as not to confuse anyone on the actual familial times.

Chapter Fourteen:

The early morning sky darkened to twilight as the storm continued to wage outdoors with no end in sight. Frigid, empty drops of rain beat down mercilessly turning the ground into a bleak, sodden landscape. Mitsukai turned away from the apartment's small window and hugged herself. The drizzle had soaked her utterly, so that her crimson pajamas were still plastered to her skin. Raindrops trickled from her thick hair to flow down her back into a growing puddle at her bare feet. Distantly she registered that she was bleeding, having scraped her leg on the old, rusty fire escape leading to her uncle's apartment. Then there were her other more recent injuries.

She fled her mother's care, once the need to understand what she was became too overwhelming. She turned to the one person who had always been adamant that she not be ignorant of her heritage. When her mother dodged her questions, it had been Souta that spoke for her. Her uncle often demanded she be answered. Mama always refused and perhaps tired of the endless conflict, Souta moved away. Mitsukai lost her uncle, her elder brother and her only friend, in one fell swoop. He still made weekly visits to the shrine. His role however, had shifted from friend to teacher. He became distant with in dealing with her and she never understood why.

A peal of thunder broke through the room with a resounding crash. Startled she back peddled from the slightly open window. The sudden movement sent waves of nausea over her slender form. Then her vision swam and her knees weakened. She sagged, clinging to the windowsill with one hand, as she scrubbed at her eyes with the other. Her vision cleared and she swallowed a deep shuddering breath.

She growled lowly in frustration, annoyed at her weakness and continued illness. There was something very wrong with her, and perhaps there always had been. Her vision blurred again and the room spun. This time when it straightened she was gazing into her uncle's concerned eyes. How much time had passed? She did not think on it long. Instead she flung her arms around Souta's neck and smiled brightly.

"Nii-chan." Her voice was little more than a gasp.

Souta pressed the small of Mitsukai's back and wrapped his free arm around her. He sat back on his heels and pulled her gently into a sitting position. He had been startled when he returned from work to find his niece sleeping on the floor near the window. His surprise turned to fear, when he had approached her prone form. The girl's silvery hair spilled about the floor in pile of sodden clumps, and her limbs had been tangled beneath her. It was evident that she was not sleeping but had likely fainted. He watched as her golden eyes, once almost molten in their brightness now dull and lifeless, drift shut.

"Mitsukai." His voice barely a whisper as he brushed her silver bangs from her forehead.

"What happened? How did you get here?"

Mitsukai whimpered slightly and barely opened her eyes. "I'm okay," she whispered and attempted to pull herself to her feet.

Souta grasped her around the middle with one hand and forced her to remain seated on the floor. "No, you're not," he retorted firmly.

He lowered her gently onto the linoleum floor and arranged her limbs as if she were sleeping. "I'll call your mother."

Before he could move, Mitsukai's small cold hand shot out and was wrapped around his wrist. Her grip was crushing, just this side of hurt and she pulled him down so that he was inches from her face. Her eyes snapped opened glowing with a ferocity he had never seen in his niece. He braced himself on his free hand and stared sternly into those molten pools. Her face crumpled and the ferocity vanished and was replaced with despair.

"Don't." She pleaded and choked back a sob. "Please, don't tell her I'm here."

Souta brushed the light trickle of tears from her eyes and shook his head. "Sweetie," he began sympathetically. "I can't do that."

"Please." Mitsukai begged as she tightened her already forceful grip on his wrist.

Souta hissed involuntarily and attempted to wrench free. The grip that was merely uncomfortable had suddenly become painful. Mitsukai's claws pressed into his wrist, but had yet to break the skin. If they did, he was uncertain he would survive. "Mitsukai." he addressed sternly.

Souta exhaled audibly and attempted to keep his voice normal. Never did he want Mitsukai to believe he was afraid of her. Although at this moment he was beginning to feel a slight inkling. "You're hurting me."

Mitsukai looked stricken and released his wrist, jerking her hand away as if he had burned her. Absentmindedly, he nursed his injured wrist. It was badly sprained and throbbed painfully. For Mitsukai's sake he ignored the pain, instead choosing to comfort her. When she had calmed, he would determine how she had managed to find his apartment. Mitsukai was extremely bright and resourceful. That she managed to travel from the shrine across town, on foot and in the pouring rain was nothing short of miraculous.

"Shh." he whispered, as he stroked her cheek with his uninjured hand. "Tell me what's wrong."

Mitsukai sucked on her bottom lip and looked away. Hot tears trailed down her porcelain cheeks as she stared away at nothing. The sheer enormity of what was wrong was overwhelming. "I…."

Souta spoke soft comforting words as he made small useless circles on Mitsukai's back. She was so cold it was frightening. He frowned when he realized the pajamas that Mitsukai wore were several sizes too large. If it were not for their drawstring waist they would have fallen around her ankles. She was also soaked to the skin, and needed to be clothed in something dryer immediately. Luckily for her, youkai could not catch pneumonia. At least that was what he believed.

Sighing he looked at the growing puddle beneath her, then stopped short when he noticed that near her leg the water was discolored. He was her uncle and therefore entitled to certain liberties. Without a word he pulled back the leg of her pajamas to find a long deep scrape along her striped calve. There were other cuts as well. Deep, deliberate gashes crisscrossed her leg and were accented by colorful bruises.

Mitsukai made a small noise in her throat and kicked her leg from his grasp. Souta blinked back the tears that had gathered in his dark eyes, and swallowed the lump in his throat. "Who did this to you?"

She bit harshly into her lower lip, ignoring the sting of her fangs as they pierced the soft tissue. Her sobs came in hiccups, as she scratched at the tiled floor with her claws. It was at that moment Souta realized who her assailant had been. Are things really this bad at home? He wanted to yell at her, scream that she was being foolish, that there were other ways. There was always another way. Souta asked none of the questions that screamed through his mind, nor did he confront her. Instead he wrapped his arms around Mitsukai and sobbed into her shoulder. I never should have left.

Then almost an echo to his thought, Mitsukai in a voice filled with heartbreaking despair whispered. "What did I do to make you leave?"

Souta pulled away while running a hand through his short dark hair. Pangs of regret laced through him at her words. He had moved into his college dorm under trying circumstances. Kagome and his mother knew why, though he knew neither woman spoke of his reasons. He had always abandoning Mitsukai, but for his own sanity he could not remain. Wordlessly, he pulled the sobbing girl into his lap and rocked her like a much smaller child.

"When I left," he began softly as he stroked her hair. "It wasn't because of you."

Mitsukai lithe frame shook with her sobs, as he rubbed small comforting circles into her back. She quieted quickly and placed her head on his shoulder. "I wasn't so lonely when you were home."

Souta sighed and pulled back to place a light kiss on her crescent moon marked forehead. When he was a child, he had been envious of her youkai features. He remembered his utter disappointment when Mitsukai was born with pointed ears, rather than the dog like ones of Inuyasha. The hanyou was not her father, and Kagome's denial of her child's parentage would never change that. Souta caged Mitsukai's face with his hands and drew back, pressing his forehead to hers.

"I left," he began softly brushing her tears away with his thumbs. Mitsukai began to cry harder, her tears mingling with his own.

"Mitsukai, listen to me." he commanded pausing until she quieted. "I left because..because...I couldn't stand watching your mother destroy herself."

He released her slowly and rubbed his cheek against hers. "I love you and I love mother. Even when she's being stupid and stubborn." His voice cracked and yet he managed a small smile, "Even when she and I argue, I still love you both."

He rose slowly, pulling her up with him so they stood eye to eye. Souta quirked a smile at her and grew serious as he wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I want you to do me a favor."

Mitsukai's pale brows creased momentarily in confusion, but she nodded slowly.

When Souta next spoke his tone was exasperated. "Stop growing!"

His outburst elicited a grin from his niece. He had always adored her smile, and her laugh. "I'm serious!" He continued in mock outrage and waved his arms dramatically. "Do you know how embarrassing it is to be shorter than your kid sister?"

Mitsukai uttered a small, shocked gasp that gravitated to the tinkling laugh he so adored. Her laughter could always ease his worries. Guiltily he realized it had been weeks since he had witnessed even a ghost of her smile. Everyone loved Mitsukai it was fact that was indisputable. Perhaps, it was to ease his own pain or to punish her for the hardship she, inadvertently, inflicted upon their family, that he had withdrawn from her. He had been wrong, but most of all he had been a coward. He had abandoned Mitsukai, had not been there when she needed him. Souta would not wallow in his guilt and self-pity; instead he would try to rectify the situation the only way he knew how.

"I want another promise too."

Mitsukai's laughter died abruptly, though her eyes still danced with humor. She sniffed and dried the remainder of her tears on the back of her hand. "What?"

Souta touched to top of her knee and looked her very seriously in the eye. "Never do this again."

Mitsukai gasped and shook her head in denial. Souta would have none of that and continued with his thoughts.

"I'm not going to ask you why." He stopped abruptly and swallowed hard. Mitsukai's lip quivered and she began to silently cry and despite her pain he continued. "God, if things were this bad. Why didn't you say something?"

"I…"

"No!" Souta interrupted harshly and shook his head. He hated being harsh with her, but in this case it was necessary. "Don't you dare say, you're sorry!"

Mitsukai squeezed her eyes shut causing tears to trickle out of the corners of her eyes. She clasped her hands over her pointed ears and rocked back and forth on her heels. Souta had discovered her secret. The one thing she had endeavored so carefully to conceal. Over the past few months whenever she felt angry or overwhelmed she would injure herself. When he mother would have her nightmares or become upset, Mitsukai's agitation often grew.

Her first self-inflicted wounds had been minor, tiny quick healing scratches, more akin to paper cuts than wounds. That was before she had been attacked, before she had taken a human life. No longer would the tiny scratches ease her pain or satisfy her guilt. She had moved on to slicing open her flesh with her claws. Those too healed quickly, although at times she would bruise the tissue around the gashes. Bruises lingered longer, yet even did not completely quell her pain. Now Souta wanted her to stop, but he did not understand. In her mind she wanted to be punished. That she had killed someone, purely in self-defense brought her no comfort.

"It hurts." she murmured as her knees buckled.

Souta caught her under the arms before she fell. "You're sick," he stated as he tried to help her to her feet.

When he found she was unable to stand he half carried, half dragged her to the couch. Mitsukai was not heavy; he simply was not physically strong. Her height also made her unwieldy to carry. It was perhaps his utter shock and concern over her apparent illness that he had a minor slip of the tongue. "You're not supposed to be able to get sick."

Mitsukai's eyes flicked open, their golden depths filled with swirls of crimson. She watched as Souta pulled a crocheted afghan over her before rushing into the bathroom. He returned moments later with bandages and some sort of antiseptic. Souta sighed and grumbled half to himself as he dabbed at the worst of her cuts. "We should change your clothes first."

She leaned back into the couch cushions before peering back at Souta. She had come here for answers and it was best to begin at what she understood was the beginning. "Nii-chan?"

Souta acknowledged her with a small grunt as he fished a pair of clean sweat pants and a t-shirt from the nearby laundry basket. "Who is Inuyasha?"

Souta said nothing for a few moments as he helped her dress. He had always threatened his sister, that if Mitsukai ever asked him about her heritage, he would answer. Now faced with the possibility, he was uncertain if he truly wished to make good on his promise. He resumed his task of bandaging her wounds. It was pointless he knew, for she would likely be completely healed by morning.

He looked skyward for an instant, praying that this was the correct course of action. "Inuyasha was a friend of your mother's."

"I figured that," she stated sarcastically. Mitsukai winced as he prodded one of the deeper cuts. He blew on the wounded tissue apologetically and continued bandaging. "I thought he was my father for a long time." She smiled sadly and tilted her head to the side.

"Speak of the devil," she murmured ambiguously as she pulled herself to her feet. They had found her, and she was unwilling to face them at this moment. In her determination she seemed to strengthen. She streaked to the window and flung it open.

"Mitsukai!" her uncle cried, halting her in her tracks.

She flashed him an apologetic smile and leapt out onto the fire escape. At the same moment the front door was flung open and in the doorway stood what seemed to Mitsukai's male twin. His face with blank, but agitation seeped from his very being. Although he looked fragile it was obvious he was not one to be trifled with. Without a word he strode to the open window and leapt through.

"Hey!" Souta yelped indignantly. He knew likely whom this person might have been, still he was compelled to ask, and more so considering Mitsukai had bolted from him. "Who the fuck are you!"

The man did not pause to answer; in fact Souta was certain he would not. He turned from the window to find his elder sister's small form. Her bluish gray eyes glowed with anger and her small fists were balled at her sides. Souta felt the expected stirrings of anger when his gaze met hers, but more so now that his niece was suffering.

"Souta," she hissed as she stalked towards him.

Souta glowered and crossed his arms over his chest. This was the staging of a battle they had been waging for nearly a decade. This time it would be he that delivered the first blow. "Fuck off, Kagome. I don't want to hear it."

Kagome scowled at her younger brother, her knuckles turning white as she clenched her fists tighter. "What did you tell her?"

Souta laughed a bitter, berating sound that grated against her nerves. "Don't worry Nee-chan," he hissed, deliberately returning to his childhood term of endearment for his elder sister. "Your precious secrets are safe."

Kagome exhaled in relief and rubbed her temples. Mitsukai had gone to her uncle, a place Kagome never expected her to run. If Sesshoumaru had not sensed their daughter's youki, they would have passed this place without a thought. "You should have called…."

Souta did not defend himself, even though he never intended to keep Mitsukai's whereabouts a secret. He snorted and closed the window. "For what?"

"I'm her mother."

"Yeah," Souta conceded with a sarcastic bob of his head. "You are."

Kagome looked out the window and peered into the rain that continued to pour. Sesshoumaru was undoubtedly chasing or had caught up to their daughter by now. So engrossed was she with the rain that she had tuned out the rest of what her younger sibling was saying. It was likely a rehash of their earlier arguments at any rate. Souta would demand to know what she, Kagome, would do in fifty, sixty or even when she died. Mitsukai had a life span that was seemingly infinite. She would never be able to hide her forever.

"Do you really believe she thinks she human?" Souta was saying now, his voice laced with anger. "She knows there is something wrong."

Kagome spun from the window and glared at her brother. "There is nothing wrong with Mitsukai!"

"Then why hide it?" was Souta's astute reply.

Kagome huffed and returned her attention to the window. "I don't need this now."

"No," Souta said in agreement. He looked up at the ceiling and attempted to calm himself. There were few things that angered him as much as speaking with his sister. He mourned for the time, not so long ago, in which they spoke as siblings rather than enemies. "You needed it seventeen years ago."

"Shut up."

Unheeding her words Souta pressed on. Mitsukai was more important than sparing feelings or escaping his sister's wrath.

"Yes, she's your daughter," he stated in affirmation. "But she's my niece, my little sister. If you think for one moment, I'm just going to back off, and disappear then…."

He stopped abruptly trying to gather his thoughts; there was no gentle way to voice his feelings. "You're even more out of your mind, than I thought."

"What. Did. You. Do?" Kagome snarled out slowly.

Souta ignored her question and steered their conversation in a different direction. "She's been cutting herself up."

He watched Kagome's face crumple and the anger leave her eyes. She wrung her hands and would not meet his fiery gaze. "Sesshoumaru told me about the bruises."

Souta plopped down on the couch and looked up at his sister's haggard form. He missed the old, lively Kagome. The Kagome before, her spirit died leaving only the shell of her being. He sighed, Kagome needed help, more help than he could ever hope to provide. He after all was just a middle school teacher. "I'm assuming that's who jumped out my window."

Kagome nodded and returned her gaze out the window. "He blames me too."

Souta huffed, ignoring her statement for the moment. "I want to have words with the man who knocked up my fifteen year old sister."

"He didn't know."

Souta said nothing but watched as she drew little pictures in the frost that had gathered on the window. The temperature was dropping rapidly and he hoped Mitsukai was found soon. He also worried at what type of punishment was in store for the young girl. Sesshoumaru seemed, just by appearances alone, to be the heavy handed type.

"He loves me," she whispered mournfully. Kagome drew a row of tiny flowers with hearts for blossoms, her fingertips squeaking against the chilled glass. "Despite everything I've done to make him hate me." She finished her drawing with a tiny sun with blazing rays. "Even though I don't deserve his love, he won't stop."

"Nee-chan."

Kagome continued on as if he had not spoke. "What did you tell her?"

Souta sighed in defeat and for a moment considered not answering. "She asked about Inuyasha."

"And?"

Souta, 'hmphed' all that seemed to matter to Kagome was keeping her secret safe. He glowered for a moment then smirked saying the one thing that was certain to galvanize his sister into rage. He wanted her to be angry, to feel something besides bitter self-loathing and self-pity. "Inuyasha would be pissed, if he knew how you're wasting your life."

Predictably her anger blazed and she seethed. "How dare you!"

Souta spared her a bored glance, but inwardly winced he did not enjoy being cruel. "He'd want you to be happy. Even if it was with his quasi evil half brother."

"Sesshoumaru isn't evil!"

Souta shrugged and acted as if she had not spoken. "I adored Inuyasha. Hell, he was like a brother to me. I thought he could do no wrong."

"I love him," Kagome sniffed as tears flowed freely down her cheeks. She had betrayed him over and over again with his brother. It was simply inexcusable.

"He's dead, Kagome," Souta murmured as gently as possible. He stood and grabbed his coat from where he had abandoned it when he first arrived home.

"I killed him," Kagome said barely above a whisper.

Although he was only human, that did not mean he could not help find Mitsukai. He knew first hand a few of her special hiding places. After grabbing his keys he spared a look at his elder sister peering lost and dejected out the small window.

"And yourself along with him," he retorted tightly. This was a pointless conversation. " I'm going to go find Misty and then…."

He slammed the door shut and stalked to the elevator. There was simply nothing more he could say. Perhaps at times it was simply better to give up. He had been wadging this war for almost two decades and was simply worn down. Moments later the elevator doors swished open with an audible 'ring'. Souta found himself staring into the glowering face of a taiyoukai.

He blinked in amazement, even without youkai markings, Sesshoumaru's resemblance to Mitsukai was remarkable. Mitsukai had an innocence to her that her father lacked. Yet that was not particularly surpising. Time has a way of eroding one's naivety; he knew this from simple experience. From the annoyance clouding the youkai's features it was apparent that Mitsukai had eluded him.

Souta did not feel the expected stirings of anger at the taiyoukai, but rather relief. If anyone could help Mitsukai it would be he. Souta stepped out of the elevator and walked behind Sesshoumaru.

"What will you do when you find her?" Souta inquired blandly.

He would not deliver his only niece to the hands of one who would be overly harsh. He was torn between hugging Mitsukai when he found her, and beating her for running away in the first place. From the look that flitted across Sesshoumaru's face, it seemed the youkai was having a similar conflict. Souta sighed for the hundreth time in an hour. He knew where Mitsukai likely was and had no right to keep that knowledge from her father.

Souta stuck his hands in his coat pocket and jiggled his keys nervously. Sesshoumaru turned around at the sound. "I think I know where she went."

**

Following the directions of Kagome's younger sibling, Sesshoumaru journeyed to a small art gallery located several mines from the Higurashi shrine. On display were paintings and sculptures painted by artists whose style was beyond what was contemporary. They were the Picassos and Van Goghs of this time. These were artists who would be unappreciated during their lives, but after their deaths would be heralded as geniuses.

The gallery due the late hour and its lack of popularity was practically empty. The scent of fresh paint and terpentine clouded his senses; nevertheless he could feel the familiar buzz of his daughter's youki. She was no doubt hiding somewhere within. He strode about the shabby musem and soon found her. Mitsukai was lying on a tattered, cushioned bench with well-worn arms and peered intently at the ceiling.

He walked to the foot of the bench glaring at her muddy feet and soaked clothing. She had managed to escape him. Had he not been so concern about her well being, he likely would have been proud. A mixture of anger and relief filled him and he was uncertain which emotion to act upon first.

Mitsukai did not acknowledge his presence but continued to stare at the ceiling. Finally she pointed with a single claw upwards. "I think it could use more purple."

Sesshoumaru rolled his eyes upwards almost against his will. Painted on the ceiling was a large mural, a myraid of clashing and chaotic colors. He agreed that a bit more purple would balance the piece considerably. Then scowled inwardly that he allowed himself to be distracted from the task at hand. Mitsukai scooted into a sitting poiston, presumably to allow him to sit beside her. He took the offered seat and was surprised when she slid close enough so that she could rest her head on his shoulder. His daughter was a perplexing child, one moment she was fleeing, the next hugging him.

Her actions were as her mother's; he realized a sour feeling filling him. Despite the sudden ache he felt, he wrapped his arms around her tightly and kissed the top of her moon white crown. She smiled as she returned his embrace, thinking perhaps all had been forgiven. He drew away from her and held her at arms length. He tightened his grip on her thin arms just tight enough to barely hurt. Mitsukai needed to be punished for running away. At first he had thought on what his own father would have done, had he done something similar.

Had he ran not once, but twice from his father, he would have been bloodied. This was a different time, a different world and Mitsukai a different child. She though youkai, was raised under the concept of the revoking of privileges as a means of punishment. He could not strike her, and a part of him was uncertain he could have had he raised her from birth.

Instead he chose to draw from his experience raising Rin. His little human ward would never have fled him. In fact had her husband not desired his own home, she would have remained with him until her dying day. Often with Rin, sternness and his obvious displeasure were enough to discipline the child. His wife had claimed he spoiled her, something she too was guilty. In fact, before Aya was slain, she had moved on to spoiling Rin's grandchildren. He had never truly loved Aya, not as she had loved him. Recently he began to understand how painful such a realization was.

Forcibly he pulled himself from his thoughts and glared at his flesh and blood. Mitsukai wilted slightly under his stare, but did not pull away. He leaned forward so that his breath caressed her face.

"Never run from me again," he hissed. When Mitsukai blinked and attempted to pull away, he gripped her chin with one hand forcing her to look at him. He growled lowly and soft enough that only she heard. The threat was evident. "Is that perfectly clear?"

Her features darkened and contorted into a scowl. She wrenched herself from his grasp, able to only because he chose to release her. Mitsukai pulled her legs up and placed her chin on her knees. She glowered and refused to look in his direction. "I wasn't running from you."

"Then…" He stopped abruptly, realizing whom she meant. Kagome. His only question now was, why? This argument was not over, not by any means.

She placed her cheek on her knees so that she could look at him. Her lips quirked into a small smile and her eyes narrowed. "You." she addressed and wrinkled her nose playfully. "I was just avoiding."

She tilted her head backwards, once again entranced by the painting on the ceiling. "If you stare at it long enough you begin to see shapes and little pictures." She looked over at him and smiled. "It's like watching clouds." Mitsukai returned her gaze to the ceiling, secretly pleased when he did likewise. Her voice dropped to a soft almost mournful whisper. "I don't understand."

Sesshoumaru peered at her from his perhiphal vision. Her face remained impassive, a porcelian mask, but her eyes held confusion and wonder. "What don't you understand?"

She releashed her legs allowing her bare feet to slide carelessly to the floor. She sat up fully, leaning forward so that her hair completely obscured her face.

"How you can be my father."