Alrighty! So this little baby, the one you've been patiently (and some not-so-patiently) waiting for since SIX chapters ago, is dedicated to SweetXWhisper and to Ryanrene97 the first two to review chapter 24. And I must say, they were on complete opposite sides about how Sesshomaru was going to react when we see him again that I giggled madly. You two lovely readers get the most anticipated chapter thus far, congratulations!
A special shout out to Dontgotaclue88 for being my 200th reviewer! Yay you!
Give me an awesome review that makes me laugh and the next chapter could be dedicated to you! Yay!
I need to apologize for sending this out so late. But the truth was I had to revise, reedit, reread, and redo so many things. It just had to be perfect you know? So, here it is, after much slaving about! Enough about me, obviously you're just scrolling by anyway…
Chapter 25: What's brought with the River
The morning was sunny and bird chirped lazily in the distance, still loud enough to annoy me from a fitful sleep. I found my fists clenched tightly in the sheets, sweat drenching the cocoon I seemed to have rolled myself up in. With a small shout I shoved at the linen until it lay begotten on the floor. Shows them, for trying to suffocate me in my sleep.
Blue and bright, the sky held not a single fluffy blemish, no ominous black thunder or frightening lightening, no rain to signal my upcoming doom.
No, the birds were freaking singing!
"Katsumi!" Ama burst through the small door that led to her and Myou's chamber. She looked startled and more rumpled than I had ever seen her – which just meant her hair was a little more fluffy than normal. Perks of being a demon? Or perhaps she's just naturally annoying like that. Myou appeared just behind her with wide, worried green-gold eyes.
"I'm fine. I'm fine," I waved off Ama as she rounded the futon to kneel beside me. My muttering didn't convince her. "Really, Ama," using her name didn't quell her, but she refrained from touching me.
"Did I cry out in my sleep again?" getting up took way too much effort to spare looking up in her direction.
Myou answered my question, lightly resting her hand on my forearm. You wouldn't think Ama and Myou were over half a decade old just by looking at them. Heck! You wouldn't think they were in their thirties just by looking at them!
Their wide eyes made them appear far too innocent, too trusting.
I sighed and patted Myou's hand before looking at Ama. "He'll be here soon."
Ama bit her lip before the words tumbled out regardless. "How did you get involved with the Lord of the West? You were only on this side for a few weeks!"
I laughed – if only she knew. "He and I…we…huh." There didn't seem to be words for what Sesshomaru and I were. "We had a mutual task," which was terribly inappropriate, "and then found ourselves seeking a mutual ending," hardly like the ordeal the pearlescent bands actually were, "and before we even knew what was happening," oh, we knew more than either of us will ever admit, "we held a mated bond." And stated like that my last two months sound nothing like the horrifying nightmare they had been.
I buried my face into my hands. Why was I even embarrassed about this?
"And now he's bent on killing you." Ama deadpanned in a disbelieving, older-sibling kind of way. I mean, in the way I imagine an older sibling would sound if they knew you were lying and simply waiting for you to cave before they wring the truth from you. Her eyes shimmered like hard emeralds in the same way Kagome's would at her little brother.
I pulled my hands away from my face, "Yes." Sulking would do me know good. Dreaming about Sesshomaru not killing me didn't make it reality.
I could still see that hot glare of his in Chimitsu's cavern before I ran for my – back then – mortal life. Which was something I really needed to address…
"How do we die?"
Ama and Myou flinched as if I had hit them. Myou shuttered before turning away to the closet with my barrowed clothes. Leaving Ama to answer the unpleasant question. She huffed, patting her hair absentmindedly before her eyes caught mine. "We can die very easily, Katsumi. We don't have tough skin or great power over the forces."
"We can Infl – uh, Sing."
"Yes," she drew the word out warily. "But we are not a fighting kind. We defend."
I frowned at that. "Defend what?"
"Everything," she spread her hands wide, "We are responsible for keeping order where there is none." She bit her lip, catching something in my face that obviously meant I wasn't happy with her words. "We don't destroy, Katsumi. Our duty is to defend."
Although it was so long ago, because I had used my Influence on myself the memories of my once forgotten childhood came to me as if I heard the words just yesterday.
"There is order to the world, my Little One, and you cannot alter that order… We help, we do not control."
I sighed and shook my head. So, I was doomed. Sesshomaru would kill me, or to be accurate: He would try to kill me, and thus kill Okunote for stepping in as his honor would dictate, and when Okunote was dead then he would kill me.
Influencing Sesshomaru wasn't an option. Even if I was completely aware of my demonic origins, beyond breaking the limits of my human stamina not much else had changed. I suppose my reflexes were sharper, I might be a little faster, but that came with training and honing of such skill. All I had was my training as a human.
And not much practice at being a demon.
My influence only scratched the surface, hardly worth the breath it'd take to utter a word.
Myou began helping me dress while Ama started pulling my hair away from my face. It was long enough for her to twist a few strands back and pile on top of my head. They knew me now, knew that I had my silver and I couldn't wear a multi-layered kimono this time. Sesshomaru was coming for me and it wasn't going to be a pretty thing when he did. Inevitable as it was, I'd have to defend myself against Sesshomaru.
And even if they didn't agree with that, they'd still make sure I'd look fabulous doing it.
WithTheRiver
For the first time in a very long time the hand on my dueling knife was shaking. I gripped the hilt harder, bit the inside of my cheek, narrowed my eyes, and took a deep breath. Sesshomaru was coming – don't know how I know. Maybe it's like a sixth sense, something primal that awakens when true demise knocks at your door. Maybe it's the lingering remnants of the dream; Sesshomaru's voice caressing my ears. "I will be there soon, with you."
Whatever it is, it's almost worse than not knowing. This anticipation, it's new and thoroughly unwelcomed. I'd rather the days when I blindly charged in; consequences be damned!
My fingers touched the fabric on my stomach, tracing the mark beneath, the only scar that seemed to stay it seemed. That same hand should be covered in tiny little scratches from the tolkies; there should be evidence of the duel with Tayorinai, the other hand should be all pink and shiny with healed skin. I should be bedridden from a blotch of roughly patched flesh at my right side – where a frickin' hand had been shoved into my stomach!
But there is no evidence of anything. Not of my one-man battle with Wulx and his pack. Not of the scraps and burns from my curious childhood. Not a single mark of proof of all my trials. No, all I have is a nasty, little strip from one side to the other, reddish and slightly raised, uglier than I thought before I fell down the well. Because now, it's all that mars my skin – and only now do I notice that fact.
I can feel Okunote's eyes on my face so I school my features into a cool mask. But my hand just won't stop shaking! We are standing at the highest level, the only one with a patio outside, with the best view. When he comes, I will be the first to see him. Of course, he will have a perfect view of me, but that's the point.
No more running.
Why won't my hand stop shaking?
"So," Okunote's voice is light, charming, as he leans against the intricate railing of his castle. But there is something dark underlining his carefree words, "You never said what you and Sesshomaru argued about." The emphasis is not lost on me.
I don't say anything.
"For you to run so far, to come to me…It must have been something…strenuous." Still not a question; still no answers from me. "I mean, I saw you face down Tayorinai with less fear." He tripped over the former Lord. His memories seem to take him away from me for a moment and I clench my teeth until it hurts. It isn't right, but I let him disappear into his dark past. Selfish, but I have bigger things to worry about.
Like how every time a bird flies into my peripheral vision I flinch.
Like how I can feel the bead of sweat at the nape of my neck but I feel cold all over.
Like how my hand just won't stop shaking!
WithTheRiver
I don't really know what to think as Mother grips my hand harder, dragging me behind her as she shoves the double doors to the backroom open. They fly back and hit the wall with a resounding bang. I don't jump. But I clench my teeth until it hurts. The others in the room don't jump either, but they tense. Seven individuals with a multitude of colored eyes vary between relaxing and tensing further.
I've only ever seen glimpses, glances, a shadow here, and shape there, but never outright in the light of day have I stared at the Executioners. Half-breeds, with their red and violet and gold eyes and the humans with their scars and sneers. I don't separate the two; both are dangerous, both are monsters. They all live in the night; all have red on their hands.
Mother doesn't slow. She pulls me through the first room in a brisk pace. We stride briskly through the room on silent feet; I won't disappoint her again with an audible thud. Tables are set up haphazardly, sporadic, with cards and cash and glasses cluttering the surfaces. This serves a recreation, where the concrete is splattered with dark stains and the pool table is beaten and worn and the dart board looks like it once served as a werewolf's chew toy. Executioners are not known for their bedside manners.
They are a violent lot, all of them.
I suppose that'll be me too, then.
Another set of double doors burst in the explosion of Mother's rush. She's anxious. More anxious than I ever seen her, she strides down this room with a purpose. The half-breeds here watch with catlike tenacity as we pass them, the padding on the floor and walls tells this is the sparring room. More blood stains here, more frequent, thicker, darker, and there is less of an empty echo than in the Rec Room.
My stomach stays behind as Mother turns down a hallway and makes a sharp right to shove at a single door. This room is by far the nicest. The floors are hardwood and polished and gleaming – as the half-breeds are ordered to clean it every morning before practice. The padded section in the center doesn't look painful to hit, and not marked with a single drop of blood. There are bars and chains hanging from the ceiling and three Executioners pause in their aerial exercise to peer down at me.
The pair in the center pulls back as Mother walks without stopping. Until we take their place. For one sickening second I wonder if I have to fight my mother, again. It isn't a pleasant activity, but usually we don't serve as entertainment to the Executioners who followed us inside from the very beginning. A crowd gathers in a half-circle around us.
My stomach is not among them. A no show, probably. It might be for the best.
But the garage door to my back opens, slowly, ominously and I realize I can't clench my teeth any harder, so I curl one hand into a fist – let the bite of my fingers digging into my palm satisfy the need to run. Father stands from his crouch, a couple of Executioners follow him. Their dark clothes are slick with no doubt blood, a dark green blood.
My throat went dry, but not at the blood. Three Executioners dragged in a lizard-demon. Arms were not supposed to bend that way, bound and wiggling and bleeding the demon's cold, black eyes are blank as the creature is dragged into the room without protest. There had been a slit of acid green, marking it for its reptilian heritage, but the mess the Executioners dropped before Mother and I was merely a shadow of its true self. As it lay in a mass of broken bones and meat I saw it was missing a foot and blood poured from the unattended wound like a macabre waterfall.
Miserable, weak, and above all I noted with a certain distain the creature appeared to have given up entirely.
Father left his group to stand next to Mother, watching me expectantly. Together they pulled back from me, inching slowly away from the once pristine mat to stand with the crowd. I looked back at the pathetic mess of a once proud demon but nothing happened. Were they expecting me to fight it? That wasn't entirely fair. It wouldn't be the first time, of course, but that was usually with half-breeds doped up on downers to impair their judgment and offer me a building block in my future of blood and violence.
But this…This wasn't fair. This wouldn't be a fight at all.
It wasn't until Father handed me a silver dagger – as according to tradition – that all the pieces fell into place – neat, orderly pieces of a puzzle finally fitting together to show off the picture it was intended to be. I took the hilt without hesitation – reflexes honed in – and took the three strides to the lizard-demon. Close enough to recognize his breed's particular scale pattern, the skin that should have glimmered green and gold and orange was black with its dry blood, and something inside me wanted to turn and flee from his black and green stare.
Another part, hidden underneath the gore and violence and pain, small and feeble like a newborn kitten wanted to reach out to the demon and fix it.
But it was so small, so young, so malnourished that I quickly shooed the thought away.
It was only the demon and I that day. With the garaged door slammed shut and the lights dimmed low it could have been night; probably in some sort of Hollywood set they would have preferred something so terrible to be done in the cover of darkness. But we are Executioners; we don't just live in the night. We hunt it down. And as I stood so close to the demon as to trace the pattern of his scales I felt utterly alone. It may not even have been the demon and I, but simply me.
Until the demon spoke.
Then my hand started shaking.
And on my life I will never tell another living soul what it said.
How could I? How could I tell my parents, as they stood as observers and watched in contained pride as their daughter entered their world? How could I have said to the Executioners as they slaughtered and maimed and hunted at my side?
How was I supposed to confess the absolute hatred I had for myself in that moment, my hand shaking so terribly that I could have sliced at my own thigh – probably not have noticed. As the dagger carved horizontally through the air, the lizard-demon hissed a sigh and muttered for my ears alone: "Thank you." Then its lifeblood spilled from the deep gash in it neck, chocking on its on life, never again to suck in a breath, never again to feel the pulse of its life in its veins, and never again did I have a dreamless sleep.
I never forgot that day, my first kill. My nightmares never let me forget.
WithTheRiver
The sun reached its zenith and I bit my cheek as I heard a flutter of movement behind me. Ama, probably – she'd be fretting about how I haven't eaten anything yet. My stomach was too busy doing cartwheels to probably keep anything down, anyway. And she was no doubt in a frenzy as to how to address her accumulating worry and my standoffish behavior. At another point in time I'll apologize. You know, if I'm not a headless mess after this.
Don't be absurd! Sesshomaru's not going to decapitate you.
No, no. You're right, conscious. He'll vaporize me like he did those demons back at the Counsel. That's what he'll do. No mess, no fuss. Or something or other.
You know, he could be here tomorrow. Standing here and worrying isn't going to make him magically appear.
He'll be here. I know it. In my gut – which is why it's squirming so much – I can feel Sesshomaru getting closer and closer. Much like prey. Ever seen National Geographic or Discovery Channel? Not every doe or rabbit is eaten in one chomp. Most of them learn of the predator's intent with plenty of time to escape. Sometimes that's what the predator wants, I'm sure. The thrill of the hunt, to earn its meal.
But this chase has been going on for weeks. And Sesshomaru is going in for the kill. And I know he's coming.
The fluttering doesn't stop. I really should say something to Ama and Myou. I hardly considered what they would do should Sesshomaru attack me. I managed to convince Okunote to keep them away but with but a hum Ama could get away and come between Sesshomaru and I. Those with a strong will were somewhat immune to our Singing, but maybe in the frenzy of bloodlust she could keep him at bay long enough…
Who was I kidding?
I'd never let Ama come so close to Sesshomaru – especially if he were in bloodlust. And what would happen if she managed to do anything to him? Would I attack him? Finish him off?
Could I kill two Lords in just as many months?
Could I kill Sesshomaru?
Would I?
I tasted blood in my mouth. That answer was painfully obvious, but it still stung with its truth. No, I couldn't kill Sesshomaru. And if I even could I wouldn't.
Not even if it came down to you and him?
My instincts were rattled, learning you're a demon and spending that last two months in a completely topsy-turvy world will do that to them, but they weren't hindered. If I had to fight for my life I didn't doubt I wouldn't. I'd like to think I wouldn't kill Sesshomaru, even if I should. But I'm not so self-righteous as to claim I'd sacrifice myself before killing him.
Who am I kidding? I'm a monster just like all the rest of the Executioners.
Fabric swishing against polished marble, the heat of summer boring down on me, the dark and loathsome thoughts swimming about, more cartwheels in my stomach, blood in my mouth, and my hand won't stop shaking – I'm a right piece of work, I am. But my eyes do not stray from the West.
It is just as Ama is touching my wrist, her inner battle finally won, when I see him. It isn't a shape, nothing definite, but it is a speck in the distance that makes me inhale sharply. Makes Ama flinch away. Makes Myou suddenly stand at my side.
I stare at her astonished as she smiles. Her hand takes the one not shaking at the hilt of a silver blade before she turns back to the speck.
Myou is special.
Demons without defense mechanisms die – and they die fast. Without her Singing, Myou is simply another beautiful demon. But beauty doesn't get you far in this world. It helps but it doesn't keep the air in your lungs.
There's a reason why Myou is still alive.
Her gold-green eyes close as she takes a deep breath. For a moment I cannot look away as an eye in the center of her forehead, the same gold-green as its twins opens. There hadn't even been a seam or a flap or anything to prove the eye's existence. I follow its trail of sight to the speck in the distance. For a long second everything goes still. The birds chirping gladly suddenly silences, the hot wind instantly dies, the soft sounds of the town and the castle fade away, and even the sights in my peripheral vision black-out until all I can see is the dark sharp far off into the distance.
The moment is broken when Myou staggers away with her hands drawn up to her face. Since she had been gripping me so tightly I go with her until her back hits the castle.
"Myou!" I take her wrists and try to pull them away. "Myou! Are you alright?" Ama is there too, petting her sister's hair and whispering into her ear. After a moment Myou does meet my eyes with her two normal ones. She looks outright terrified before she swallows and takes another calming breath.
She gestures, quick and agitated movements, like butterflies caught in a gale storm. It doesn't take long for me to figure out what she's saying.
It was Sesshomaru, and he had been looking right at me.
WithTheRiver
Maybe it had been too soon to decide to stop running?
I stood immediately and was rushed the paper doorway. Physically, I drew myself away as if Sesshomaru had been standing right there. The whiplash was so bad I fell on my back and gasped as if all the air had been knocked out of me. It hurt.
"Katsumi!" Ama gushed as she grasped my shoulder, no hesitation this time. "Katsumi, are you alright!"
There was that word again.
I shook my head and covered my face in shame. All that talk! I was still scared, still running like it was the only option. For a moment – only one and it was dreadfully drawn out – I wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. It's been a while since I last cried, like the heart wrenching sobs that are almost cathartic.
And as the moment passed I realized I never cried about Sesshomaru turning on me. I never mourned for the loss of what we could have had, what he showed me was even possible.
But by then it was over and I couldn't very well lay here and sob like a child. So I shoved myself up and straightened my clothes and hair. Ama helped nervously. I patter her hand and smiled.
"It just jumped out at me all of a sudden." Excuses, excuses, and Ama wasn't buying it.
"We won't let you die, Katsumi." Her eyes were gleaming with hot tears. "If Lord Sesshomaru wishes to have you he will have to go through us first!" I felt Myou's fist clench in the fabric of my kimono.
I laughed. I couldn't even count on the Executioners back home to have my back. And suddenly these two fall into my lap and pledge allegiance to me. I laughed so hard some of those tears from before leaked out, but it didn't hurt and I wasn't so terrified anymore.
Of course there was a healthy dose of fear, wiggling at the back of my mind. But I stamped it down and put it in its place. Don't let the fear control you. Not sure if that was my demon parents or my human parents, not even sure if it was from somewhere else entirely, but the words soothed me nonetheless.
The courtyard would do for this…whatever it was going to be. Whether I'd die at the cobblestones or end up…well…not dying…the courtyard possessed style and I'd like to go out in style if I could. Okunote had seemed to pull himself together and sidled up as Ama, Myou and I make purposeful strides that way.
He was back into that careless, teasing mood of his, "I take it your mate is here?" I nodded, "I'll be sure to let him in." He didn't sound happy about it.
Before he left he muttered low enough for just the two of us, "Remember our deal, Lady Katsumi." And then he was gone, leaving me glaring hotly at the doors leading to the courtyard,
I turned sharply before Ama and Myou could follow, "Wait."
Ama huffed, "I already told you, you stubborn-"
Grinning and shook my head, "I'd like you two to keep out of sight for now. Sesshomaru doesn't know what I am and I'd rather he didn't know until absolutely necessary." Ama looked about to argue, but Myou took her sister's hand as her bright eyes pierced me. For a full minute none of us moved; Ama huffed again, breaking the tension.
"We'll be there," she pointed to an alcove that looked out to the courtyard. "Should it become 'absolutely necessary' we will intervene."
I smiled and before I could second-guess myself I pulled them into a tight hug. They pulled me just as hard into the embrace and for a few seconds I realized this was what it was like to have siblings – to have family that cared for your well-being first and foremost; people who would put their lives on the line to keep you safe instead of leaving you to take care of your mess. Something painful bloomed in my chest, like blood seeping from a wound, but I pulled away from them before I could ponder on the feeling for long.
WithTheRiver
There had been a time when I would have killed a human for provoking me. If they had come at me, I would not have hesitated to slice them in two, or three, or four. If they had thought they could enthrall me with a sweet whisper I would have severed their head from their shoulders and not thought twice about the mortal again. So long ago, I would have sneered at the very thought that I would ever need a human being in any means. I did not need anyone.
There are moments in our lives, in our very long lives, that reshape us completely. Eternity in its vast greatness; the times, whether it is preordained or happenstance, change us. Then there are people that come along once or twice a millennia, the people that stay with us during our very long lives. Very rarely do we allow ourselves to change. But I was told once that change is inevitable and there is no hope in fighting it.
If I had listened I would have saved myself a season of suffering, stalling the change, shoving it back as if it were an enemy. Change is no enemy, it is a dammed river and when the dam brakes there is little to be done than let the river reshape the earth and wait for the time when you build your dam somewhere else. Or let the river have its way.
Katsumi is my river.
The last few months tracking her down were a torment as the change she wrought crashed through me, reshaping me and leaving me no time to breathe or break away. After Kagura tossed her over the cliff as if she were nothing the world bled into a whirl of red and rage and…
It had been a long time since I allowed that part of me to run free. As if I was no better than a bloodthirsty animal!
The village of men, they were nothing more than an ant to a wolf and when, by the wisdom of their elder, I was told where to continue Katsumi's trail, only then was their village spared. They pray to their God I never come back.
When word came to me that she was in the East Lands, the world became red and rage once more. The dam broke. The river flowed freely, reshaping the earth.
And now, here she stands; an offering to the gods of old, her hair pulled back and up and away from a face that haunts my waking moments. Her hands grip the hilt of the wicked knives at her back – shaking, trembling. There is fear here, and I can't give a damn that I'm the cause of it.
The blue of her kimono has me seeing red; the black boots that clad her little feet holds the rage at bay. The world dims and leaves but the two of us. Vaguely, instincts no doubt, I know there are two demons in the alcove above and the Lord of this castle is at my left. Yet, they do not matter. She is what reshapes the earth.
All I see is the river that blankets the world. Unrestrained, unmolested, stretching out to consume everything and touch everything as it had once before. To claim the world as if it were hers, and it is…or was…will be.
My mouth is dry, the claws break through the restraint just enough to elongate. Her hands grip her knives tighter, her body pulling inward, crouching, defending. Did she think I would hurt her? Will I?
Eyes, bright and hard and glittering, amethysts shining brightly in the night, narrow as I meet them. Fear. Distrust. Anger. Passion. Relief. Fear – it grips her heart and I can see it and I still cannot do a thing about it. I pull the katana away for my own, a third and strange weight I left to remind me. Remind me. Of her, of my failure…of the river I tried to push back.
She pulls, physically taking a step back, her eyes flashing. The bane is not released from her sheaths; a good sign. Amethysts flick to the sword for a second before meeting my eyes and I cannot bring myself to hold back the intensity of my gaze. But in her eyes… Unease. Questions. Fear. Distrust. In another flourish the hilt points down to her.
Come. Take it.
Take the weight.
But she doesn't move. The chains on the rage are breaking, I can feel more than the claws now, fangs and power and the world is focusing in on the little prey so close. She needs to move or else I will lose myself again.
Her subconscious answers my call. She takes three steps forward before she comes short.
"Sesshomaru…"
No! I cannot talk about this! I cannot have the demons so close to her. The river is raging and I am caught in its tide. I throw the sword high and she watches it, hand out stretched to catch it. And the second she does I have her wrapped up in my grip. There are words, flowing from her mouth, and there are others, the demons from the alcove and the Lord to my left.
But when the bane bits me I pull back on instinct, my grip fastened to her wrist, binding her, never letting her go – for I can't let her go. She has a small dagger out and held between us. Bright red blood drips from the wicked tip. The lovely knot she tied her hair back in was rumpled when I grabbed her, her eyes are too wide, her mouth open as she pants, and the hands holding her dagger are shaking. Pure, wild, prey. Beautiful and terrifying.
She is rolling and crashing through me, flooding me. Claiming the earth that was hers and is hers.
The violet fire in her eyes is blazing hot with frustration, anger, and on the edges fear.
Getting warmer.
"What are you doing?!" She cries. Indignation, as if I have the gall to touch her! The weight of it pins the others at bay, the demons from above are a flutter of hair and robes and they do not appear much of a threat – except for the hatred burning in their depths when they look at me. And Okunote, the peacock, has no idea the power she wields. I do not like having them so close, to me or Katsumi, but she acts determined not to leave.
When she struggles away from my arm I tighten the hold, it hurts her. It should. Does she know what she did to me?
"Sesshomaru!" That dagger strikes out in snakelike quickness. I twist her arm, her body, until her back is pressed up against my chest and I have that overwhelming scent of the river crash through me. At this angle, the small blade clatters to the cobblestone. She should have used the longer, dueling knife. In retaliation a fist connects to my jaw, and I let her hit me because every time she does the fear seems to grow smaller and smaller. "What are you doing?"
That isn't important. There are too many eyes, too many watchful eyes. And one wrong move will destroy anything salvageable I can gather.
"Say something," she cries, desperate and pleading and she is struggling against my arm again and I know if I tighten it further I might break her. "Sesshomaru! Talk to me!"
"Say it," I counter, my body tensing as if expecting the next blow to hurt. Her body is stiff, it will shatter if I apply too much force, but I loom over her, pulling her closer. "Say it!"
As if I were the Nightingale, her lips trembles, "Say…"
"My name."
"Sesshomaru," her eyes light up in the dark. "What-"
But that's all I need. That dam broke. With a jerk and a twist, I kiss her wildly, madly, breathing her in as if I can consume her. Maybe then she won't leave. Maybe then I won't be alone. There is no kindness in the kiss; I can't bring myself to be gentle or kind. I can only take and beg. There is a small sound, a wounded sound.
She whimpers as her whole body shudders.
There is a moment in every creature's life when the time must come for change.
I pull away, letting her go as I do. She falls, all her weight had been on me. I take a step back against the howl inside me that doesn't want to let her go. I cannot let the beast have her. I cannot let the rage boil over and burn the river. And she has done this to me.
"Sesshomaru?" her voice is harsh, rough, as she pulls herself up. Her hands are shaking. Her legs are shaking.
"Katsumi," and her name alone is almost enough to break me. The words I meant to push her away with, the dam I was about to construct…Cowardice chokes me.
There is something warm at my cheek. The foolish woman closed the distance between us. "Sesshomaru? What's wrong?"
She came to me. Is it so wrong to blame this on her? I tried to push her away and she came to me.
"I need you." The words are ripped from me as if she pulled them out herself. "Katsumi, I need you in my life. To see you. To hold you. I cannot live without knowing you are close. I cannot…" Cowardice chokes me. The beast ripping at the cage, snarling and howling. My teeth ach, the power of what I am swallows the storm and laughs at it. But all the constructs, the dam I built to keep the rage at bay is cracking. The beast will be free and the man will drown.
Her eyes are so close; there is dark blue in the purple. "You wanted me dead the last time I saw you."
Ah, the fear, she thought I was going to kill her. Maybe I was. Maybe I was.
"I could never kill you, Katsumi." Demon magic or not, I would never kill her – ever!
But there is so much she doesn't understand. Maybe one day I will have her killed. Maybe she will kill me. Still, I no longer care.
Her eyes watch me, wary of the beast inside, before she speaks, "Do you mean it? Everything you said? Say it again, Sesshomaru! Make me believe you." So much anger, so much fear. The bane glitters in the sunlight. This fear is my doing. This anger is because of me.
I am no coward!
"I need you," I say again, taking her wrist and kissing the veins there. "I need you, Katsumi." Because without the river I am nothing.
Eyes wide she whispers, "Sesshomaru, what happened?"
Was it not obvious? She is responsible for it! How could she not know? But I wrap my arm around her waist, the knives sing a death's song in the back of my mind, but for now they are harmless. How could she do this to me then leave me alone to reap the consequences? What kind of witch was she? Her voice is insistent, begging "Please, please, Sesshomaru…" because she does care, more than I do.
"You are mine, Katsumi. Half my soul goes with you wherever you go. Half my life. Half my mind. Half my heart is yours. When we are apart, I am only half a man."
It's hard to breathe so I hold her closer. That wild and strange scent: foreign metal and something sharp like spice, the unmistakable and universal hint of blood. It floods my scenes, crashes through me, washes away the pain in my chest. I can breathe easy when I breathe her in.
All because of what she is, what I have become.
The time has come for change.
Even in a creature's life as long as mine, the time always comes. And I was a fool to think I could keep it at bay. To think this woman could shape such change, to wield it and cast it. To think I would be overcome by this tiny, little thing. In the span of a heartbeat, I went from alone to suddenly, completely dependent on her.
And for so long I thought I content with the life I made.
Now, it burns and aches, to think I could ever go back to that.
Slender hands caress my scalp, comb through my hair. She is sure of her movements – no hesitation, no fear. I kiss her neck, dragging my lips up the column to her hair line and to the shell of her ear. Soft sounds, my name among them, cut through the roaring of the beast. A warm body pressed against mine. Urgent lips at my neck, my jaw, my chin, and she is raining her marks on my face. The river, reshaping the earth. It claims the world that was once it's to roam, never truly taken away, always owning the world and waiting patiently for the dam to break.
"Sesshomaru," the voice is stronger, surer, no more fear there. "What happened?"
So insistent. "You are my mate, Katsumi."
She shook her head as she pulls back to watch me. "But it was a lie. I mean…we did decide…but we didn't have time…"
"What more would time have done for us? You pledged your soul to mine, accepting me and my offer." Indeed, bonds were a contract, in shrewd terms. Was she expecting some sort of ritual? A ceremony that melded our souls into one?
If she but asked for it…
"But…back at the cave, when the bands were removed…"
"I will never hurt you, Katsumi!" Would it be my penance? For blocking the river and denying change, for her to remind me that I was out for her blood? Hands pressed against my face. Violet eyes flicked from eye to eye as she watched me. She knew. I would deny her nothing. "You are my mate, Katsumi, the other half of my soul."
"Just like that?" She had muttered the words as if dumbfounded.
"What more would you have?" Was it not enough? Was I not enough? Had I ruined her confidence in me when I turned my rage on her? If she but asked for anything…
With a kiss, a soft kiss, the press of her lips upon mine, she smiled, "You have no idea what I've been through. First, I thought you were going to kill me. Then, I forgot about you completely. Then, I meet some old friends of the family, walked to the other side of the island, made a deal with the East Lord, and waited for you to show up!"
I raised an eyebrow at her outburst – a slow build up, the river bubbling in anticipation.
"Suddenly, as if nothing happened, you are telling me you're not here to kill me, that we are, in fact, married and you expect everything to be…fine?"
Sneering I said, "What more would you have?
"Have I not sworn I would never kill you? Have I not explained that your soul and mine are forever entwined?"
"The fact that I am here," she gestures around her and in the process manages to put unwanted space between us, "that I haven't slept in days without you haunting my nightmares, is all because of you!"
The rage is there; the world is turning red.
"And now you think everything will be…fine?" I don't know what to think, but telling her that will not help.
"What more would you have? Name your price." I would gladly pay it. But the words tumble in a sneer – the gall of this woman!
She flinches back as if by a strike. "My price," she spits the words at me. "You have no shame, Sesshomaru." I let her put the distance between us as she likes.
The world stands still as I wait for her to speak, say something – anything! Simply ask and I would give. Finally she says, "Swear to me,"
"Have I not-"
"Sesshomaru!" I am spelled silent, "no, do not swear, beg me to forgive you."
There is no hesitation. So long ago I would have denied her, maybe hit her for such insolence – and if I were truly honest the man I was before would have no doubt killed her for such a vulgar price. But if this is her price, I would gladly pay it a hundred times over. There is no stopping change once it sets in. You can either deny it, as I have, or run from it.
Never let it be said that I am a coward.
"Katsumi," I kneel, because if I am to beg it will be done properly. "Forgive me. Forgive me for turning my rage upon you, for letting you go, for not being with you and helping you when you needed it." The weight of her eyes is too much, so I stare at the dragonboots. The same as my first gift to her. "Please, Katsumi, forgive me of my rage."
It is as if I cannot breathe under her gaze. The tension, the rage, the howling beast, it is a weight I can no longer bear alone – it wasn't meant to be carried alone.
For so long she is silent, I fear the worst – and it is most disturbing she can do this to me.
When her hand touches my arm, just under my shoulder of my left arm – my lost arm – I can breathe again, I can seek her eyes and I can take the weight of my burden, but I cannot yet stand.
She leans forward, her nose brushing mine once. "Alright."
I stand, taking her in my arms and kissing her fiercely all at the same time. There is a flutter of movement from the Lord. We will have to share words at another time. And the two demons from the alcove are suddenly hovering a little too close for my comfort. But Katsumi's hand is at my neck, the other gripping what's left of my lost arm, and there is a wild, abandon frenzy when she kisses me back.
No matter the tribulations, no matter what dark forces come our way, I will not lose her again.
The river will flow freely as it sees fit, reshaping the world as it determines. Never again will I try to stop it or control it, but to simply have it fill every void as it should.
Because I have reached half-a-century's worth of fanfiction, I think it's time I lay out this little nugget: I want a cover art for this story! I noticed Fanfiction let it be that some stories can have a cover art, and although I'm not 100% sure how it works, I MUST HAVE ONE!
So here's the deal: Create a sample art, a sketch or whatever, of the cover art and send me a PM of it. I will pick the top three – if we have that many – to fight to the death by completing their works and paying attention to any specific details I have in mind for it.
Yay me!
Or, at least only if this doesn't turn out into a huge flop and no one actually cares about cover art. In that case I am alone and without artistic talent of my own I will be forced to describe how I think my cover art would look like. In which case you, my readers, would be forced to read about cover art instead of seeing cover art.
Now, let's all do each other a favor here and just help me! Thank you!
REVIEW! And a few things I'd like feedback on specifically are the Title – I seriously struggled with this one – and of course your feelings about The Reunion, and some speculation about what you think might be in store for our two love birds.
Also, I got some heat from a friend who said they didn't like that I took the story away from Kagome and Inuyasha…Would y'all mind telling me what you think about it? Is it wrong what I did according to some fandom rules?
And…if there's anything else, please PM me!