Jaken struggled under the weight of another bowl of steaming water. If he were being honest, he'd say that he had no earthly idea why he was the one being forced to toddle back and forth with hot water. But he didn't grow this old by asking foolish questions and he wouldn't start today.
His Lord seemed to be a bit unhinged. Normally his hair hung behind him like a great, silver flag with no wind, but it hung over his shoulders at the moment, frizzy and tangled from running his fingers through it in strange directions. The bowl was pulled from his grasp and pristine, clawed hands began scrubbing furiously at nothing.
Lord Sesshomaru's eyes were wider than he'd ever seen them and he nibbled endlessly on his reddening, lower lip. Jaken had never seen the man look so guilty about anything.
"Gods, I can still smell it." He sat in damp robes. He'd sent Jaken to clean his clothes and ordered him to rid it of the smell of blood. The punishment for his failure would be death.
Lord Sesshomaru had killed more people than could be counted, yet he looked haunted over a single human.
It wasn't even like she was dead.
Still, he didn't like to see his Lord so worked up. It was unlike him.
"This may help, milord."
He pulled one of his glowing brews from his bag, "it will dull your senses until the smell can wear off." Jaken watched as Sesshomaru took the bottle and gave it an experimental sip.
Normally his impish brews were considered beneath Lord Sesshomaru. He would berate him for considering it, but today those haunted eyes were far more vulnerable than he'd ever seen them, "how much do I drink?"
"Three mouthfuls, milord. Be warned, it will make you sleepy. It's a peace drought." He watched the demon lord drink it without a second thought.
The brew was bound to be vile, he created them with efficiency in mind, not taste, but he didn't show his discomfort. He sniffed his claws, searching for any hint of the smell that plagued him.
When he found nothing, he bowed his head, the first sign of respect he'd ever received, "thank you," and then he was gone before Jaken could say another word.
Although, before he left his lord to sleep, he was sure he heard singing, light and muffled and hypnotic.
XxXxXxXxXx
Sesshomaru wouldn't cooperate with Sango. His plans to accompany her to her village were all but cancelled until he was certain she would be alright.
Which was a moment that had yet to come.
"Sesshomaru, I'm fine!"
He'd heard this same argument several times today, he'd memorized every point and every dip of her voice. She wanted to leave, to take care of her deserted village and bury her brother. All of which could wait.
He would sooner choke on fish than let her out of this room until she was perfectly healed, but that didn't stop her from insisting. It was driving him crazy and the tainted shard in his pocket was only making him more irritable.
On top of that, his senses were still as sharp as the blunt end of a spoon, his shoulder was healing so slowly he wanted to dig his own eyes out, and he simply felt very...mortal. It was all too much for him.
So he ignored her.
"That's it!" She grabbed his ankles and started dragging him towards the door, "if we keep waiting Kohaku's body will decompose and he'll have to be buried in some place that he doesn't know-," silk against wooden floors made it much easier for her to drag him, "and I can't -," he hated it when women cried, "I can't do that to him. He deserves to be with his mama and his-," she let him go, huffing and falling apart, "Sesshomaru, I'm fine." The sight of her tears tugged at him, but he would not give in.
He'd nearly killed her. It was proof that even friendships between humans and demons were unfair and nearly impossible to maintain, yet she still regarded him with a petulant familiarity. She continued to see herself as his equal even when the scars across her shoulders and breasts begged to differ.
Her lips trembled as she regarded him, trying to bend him to her will.
"Sesshomaru, you bastard, why are you making Sango cry!" And there came the Calvary. InuYasha was a master of minding everyone else's business, yet neglecting his own.
The monk was dragged around, day and night, without regard for his mortal limitations. Yet it was always InuYasha, running around barefoot, yelling at everyone else to get their shit together.
"The same reason as yesterday, brother. She wishes to leave. I refuse."
"I know you don't give a damn about anyone-,
"-A surprise, because I was certain you were thinking I gave good goddamn about a word that left your pathetic mouth-."
"-but Sango really loves her brother. If she wants to risk a few scars to make sure Kohaku is put to rest then that's her business." InuYasha put his hands on his hips, "it's not up to you to tell her what she can and can't do."
Sesshomaru knew the shard was making him grouchy and so he bit his tongue on the harsh thoughts that swirled around his head.
He settled on something a bit more gracious, "you don't know me, half breed. The problem here is that you make assumptions about things that your sad, struggling, few brain cells can't comprehend. I am not keeping the slayer locked in here out of fiendish delight. I am keeping her here because the smallest movements reopen her wounds and I'm not in the business of dying for her childish ideas."
InuYasha wanted to argue that the fault lay with Sesshomaru. If he didn't know anything about his elder brother it wasn't because he never asked.
He didn't even know how old he was.
"You can't tell her what to do, Sesshomaru. She's not a child. So stop being an asshole and go!"
"Who do you think you're commanding?" His voice dropped a couple notes above a growl, his golden eyes flashing as he regarded his brother. The anger was overflowing and some distant part of him realized that the jewel was making everything worse.
"Sesshomaru," Sango's voice cleared his mind -just a fraction- and he placed the shard in her waiting hands. The darkness would overwhelm her sooner than later, it would prey on her desperation. He just needed a moment to breathe, just a moment for his feelings to be his own, "don't worry about it, InuYasha. I'll get some herbs and salts. Those should keep the decomposition at bay."
She looked so defeated and InuYasha watched as his brother, always so stoic and cold, put his hand on her head, "we'll get him back." Had his voice always been so kind? "I promise you that."
InuYasha felt, suddenly, overwhelmed. He didn't bother to excuse himself as he dragged Miroku behind him, not bothering to slow until he was free of the building.
As usual, he didn't waste time with explanations.. His proximity to Sesshomaru was making his emotions go haywire. There were moments when Sesshomaru was the man he'd always known, quiet and cold and disinterested. But then there were moments when he smiled or showed the kindness that he harbored.
His affection was free for those two humans. He still made foolish comments about the weakness of their species, but those comments were followed by accommodation. He'd move mountains for Sango's comfort and never expect a word of acknowledgement. The knowledge made him bitter.
The treatment InuYasha had endured had not been a result of Sesshomaru's soured personality, it had been, instead, a direct reflection of his feelings towards InuYasha.
And to say that he didn't know anything about him? How could he? In all the time InuYasha had known that man he'd been an enigma, silent unless he was insulting him, impossible, and hateful.
That's all there was to it. Sesshomaru was hateful.
But InuYasha didn't want it to be that way anymore. He didn't want to be overcome with anger or insecurity when Sesshomaru teased him. He didn't want basic disagreements to come to blows at every turn.
What if Sango fell for him the way he was clearly falling for her? Would he make her choose? He couldn't imagine choosing to live in a cozy village over an estate with servants and a husband.
And he didn't want her to have to choose. He wanted to tease Sesshomaru about the hickies on his neck and be an uncle and grow their family from the odds and ends that had found their way together.
The only problem with that plan was Sesshomaru.
He wouldn't talk to him if his life depended upon it.
"Dandelion for your thoughts?" Miroku was holding out a yellow flower, smiling at him as if he'd done anything to deserve the kindness.
"How old do you think Sesshomaru is?" He accepted the flower, using his claws to tie the end around the base of the petals.
"Several hundred years old, maybe. He's had at least three centuries to perfect that dead stare."
InuYasha put the flower ring on Miroku's middle finger, "maybe. What season were you born in? My guess is Fall."
Miroku shrugged, "Master Mushin doesn't quite remember, he only recalls that it was cool that morning." Which narrowed it down none. Spring was cool, the end of fall was cool, Winter could be cool. Useless monk, "Why are you suddenly curious? I thought you didn't care about anything but jewel shards?"
"I realized that I didn't know anything about your life before us," and he didn't want to be like Sesshomaru. If he would share his life then he'd do it completely.
"Then when were you born?"
InuYasha sank into his knees, his mother had told him, but he'd been so young and it hadn't been important then.
So he'd forgotten.
He simply decided that he would celebrate it when the song came from the heavens on his mother's death anniversary.
"If you've forgotten there is someone we can ask," Miroku was already standing, "it just so happens that he's right over there and annoying him is my favorite pastime."
InuYasha allowed himself to be dragged, dreading whatever unnecessary venom his brother would spit.
They found him in the grass with Sango, surrounded by little jars. His hair had been braided behind him, and his white, silk clothes had been traded for a long, dark kimono.
"Hey, Sesshomaru, we have a few questions for you."
Yellow eyes glanced upwards briefly, looking to be thoroughly inconvenienced.
"Busy."
They'd gathered around Kohaku's corpse, there was a sheet to maintain his modesty, but other than that the child had been stripped of his possessions.
"Actually, their talking will give me something to focus on." Sango's shaking voice was all it took for Sesshomaru to give in. He waved them on and began cutting into the blue skin of Sango's younger brother.
"When was InuYasha born?"
Miroku sat on Sango's left, grabbing her hand as he did.
Her eyes never strayed from the skin that didn't leak blood. They'd waited so long that it had settled into his back. She felt sick.
"He was born the same day Father died. Summer on the," he paused as he gently removed the intestines from the body, dropping them into a large bowl, "last day of the long month. At night."
"And what about you?" Sango's eyes had yet to leave the corpse. Filling the body with salt and herbs would keep it fresh-ish while she healed a bit more, but to watch Sesshomaru scoop out his organs, hands dip dyed in old, clumping blood, was a bit much for her.
"Mother told me that I was born in Summer as well, but years before InuYasha, and in the beginning of a short month."
The heart was being difficult. He didn't want to tug too hard, but he also wouldn't be overcome by an organ.
"How old are you?" That was InuYasha's question and he didn't want to answer it. It led to too many other roads that he didn't wish to go down.
"Skip."
Sango was feeling queasier as time went on and Sesshomaru handed her the wooden pail they'd brought along for that very occasion.
"Ask him something else." Sango could feel her stomach lurching as the sickening, squelching grew louder.
"Tell us about your mother?" Miroku was rubbing Sango's back, groping for a subject that would catch her attention.
Sesshomaru removed the heart with a few more gentle tugs, glaring daggers at the useless organ, "are you trying to pick a fight with me, monk? No questions about my age or my mother."
"But-,"
"I said no." The growl in his voice was laced with finality and Miroku dropped the question lest he switch places with Kohaku.
"Do we have any other siblings?" InuYasha asked. He couldn't help the naive hopefulness that filled him for a moment.
"Father was a whore. Do you expect me to keep track of every harlot he involved himself with? For the most part I was kept away from his conquests."
"Most?"
"I was taken to meet InuYasha's mother when I was still small."
That, at least, gave Miroku the idea that Sesshomaru wasn't much older than InuYasha. If he was being taken anywhere he had to have been beyond small, he'd have had to be pocket sized.
InuYasha had lit up with the knowledge that Sesshomaru knew his mother.
"We should talk about something new." Sango muttered into her pail, but InuYasha was already locked into the idea.
In theory it was an innocent question. InuYasha could remember her smile and the way she smelled, but, for the most part, he didn't remember too much of his life with her.
"Just," InuYasha took a deep breath and managed his expectations. He could see the annoyance bubbling over just as well as Sango could feel it, but he had to know. "What was she like? I can barely remember her."
Sango felt that monstrous rage come to life before Miroku could say a word to stop either of them.
"She was a harlot. She was like any other home wrecking bitch I've ever met. And I hated her."
"Sesshomaru!" Miroku and Sango both opened their mouths to admonish him, but he was tired of trying to be the bigger person. He worked tirelessly behind the scenes and for what? She was the reason he was alone in the world, wandering the countryside in search of something to pass the time. And yet the product of his misfortune was staring at him, starry eyed, asking about the woman who brought about the downfall of his father.
"Get away from me." He couldn't seem to swallow the hatred that was rolling within him, "or I'll slaughter you both."
"Sesshomaru!" Sango stared at him in horror, but he couldn't feel guilt right now, "why are you so angry? Everyone has sore subjects, but we can't avoid them or work through them if you won't communicate."
He dug his claws into the ground, breaking down the packed earth with his poison.
"Why should I care?"
"Because no one likes to feel this way. It feels like I'm on fire, I can't imagine how you're feeling." Sango forced him to look at her. She was bold, he'd give her that.
He felt calmer in her grip and he hated it.
"You want to know what your mother was like?" He broke the nasal cavity with as little force as he could manage so he could hook the brains, "turn around, slayer." She did and he began digging out chunks of brain, swallowing hard against his own nausea. The things he did for this woman, "she wanted to marry a demon man, but she feared demon children. It took four hours for her to decide that she nor InuYasha would ever see me again."
"Well, you had to have done something." InuYasha was defensive, searching for fault in the man who'd called his mother a bitch not five minutes ago.
"Mother told me that a guest should always bring something to someone's home," Sango turned just in time to see that fanged smile spreading across his face, "so I caught her a squirrel. Even saved the kill for her."
"You had to have known that a half dead Squirrel wouldn't have been appreciated." Miroku leveled him with a monkish, holier than thou kind of look.
"I was still young," Sesshomaru was happy to find no more brains to scoop, "I thought I was being kind. And to be fair, father told me it would be a fine gift."
Sango handed him the herbs, smiling brightly when he accepted them with a roll of his eyes. She had him doing all the work in this mummification and as much as he wanted to terrorize her about it, he knew that he'd be sick if he had to slice InuYasha open.
Even if he hated him.
"Her fear over a squirrel is hardly cause to brand a woman as a harlot or a bitch," Miroku continued. He knew that InuYasha needed answers and he'd get them for him.
"Of course not. My own mother didn't appreciate them either."
"Then why? Is it because father died protecting us?"
"Nope." He popped the p with a careless kind of childishness that let them know he took none of them seriously, "That's why she's a harlot and a homewrecker." He wiped his bloody hands on the wet towel they'd prepared before they started this adventure. "She's a bitch, because these never went away." He pulled up the edge of his kimono exposing the raised, silvery skin on his thigh. Half a dozen little marks the size of coals littered his leg.
"She wouldn't have." InuYasha pulled back as if he was the one that had been burned, "she was kind and she-, she wouldn't have burned you that way."
Sesshomaru pulled his kimono back over his leg and went back to stuffing Kohaku with leaves. He was tired of talking. If he was being honest, he'd admit that he was being nasty and only making a bad situation worse. But he wasn't being honest and he wouldn't admit to anything.
"You had to have done something to her." InuYasha continued to insist, his expression brutal.
Sesshomaru could admire his attempts to hold tight to a narrative that was far from true, but he was still feeling nasty and he wanted to fill InuYasha with some of the uncertainty that he seemed to live with daily, "well then you tell me, what will it take for you to burn Rin with the coals from your hearth?"
A.N./ It's 2:20 in the morning and I'm still up editing. I SWEAR. If y'all don't review I'm straight up throwing myself into the Atlantic.