Dying to Live
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.
Around Sesshomaru tension thickened the air. The villagers made audible, pathetic little grunts and gasps of fear, as they braced themselves for the impending attack.
By contrast, the former Lord of the West moved methodically. Still seated, he flipped back the oil cloth covering the lump of pine resin that he had kept waiting on his knee. He turned the lump as he picked it up and pulled the oil cloth away a bit more. As intended, the warmth radiating through his pant leg had heated the one side of the mass of resin, giving it a slightly melted sheen. Seeing this, he set the resin back down for a moment in order to smoothly unsheathe his battleblade. The freshly sharpened edges of the steel glinted in the low moonlight.
Sesshomaru paused a moment to study the blade. Though he had some reservations about it, he decisively raised the warmed side of the resin to the metal. Quickly, he slathered the body of the blade up and down with a coating of the sticky residue. Satisfied it was covered, he used his long fingers of his left hand to rewrap the remaining resin and carefully pocket it. It seemed a shame to cover the newly sharpened metal with the stuff, but he had seen how the accelerant could allow the flame to burn at length against the metal just as the slayer had wielded his flaming sickles the night before...
Sesshomaru stepped from the shadows of the building and looked about. Casually, he stretched the muscles of his neck with cool, side-to-side articulations. Not far from him, he saw the girl, Tsukiko and her younger brother, Kei. They fiddled with their portions of pine resin, trying to coat the long branches they had drawn from the bundles slung across their backs.
Some of the villagers who had been faster to react had already moved to the pits located nearest to them. The freshly dug pits held the dry timber and handmade pinecone fire starters that the people had loaded in during the afternoon under the slayer and kitsune's direction. Upon the initial signal of the first sighting of the wolves, the rooftop archers had shot flaming arrows into the pits dug at the defense perimeter of the immediate area. After that, flaming arrows also rained down upon these nearer pits. Here, the ground defenders would light their sap-covered melee weapons, while more elderly villagers would keep the fire pits stoked. With space still left to approach the flames leaping up from the nearest fire pit, Sesshomaru walked up and carefully lowered his sap-covered sword into the blaze. Soon, the flames lapped and jumped onto the sappy accelerant on the metal. The sap began to burn evenly though not too quick as to consume it all at once.
A really very ingenious technique, Sesshomaru thought as his jaw involuntarily clenched, and he pictured the focused face of the young slayer from the night before again. For beings that do not possess inherent control of the elements, some of them certainly find clever ways of bending the elements to their will, the former Lord of the West mused more generally, realizing it would be better to get his thoughts off of the slayer for now. He could not risk allowing his concentration to slip from the apparent hang-ups he had discovered he had with the taijyia.
Lifting it, he carefully held the weapon away from his body, perfectly straight up and down as the flames finished catching. Soon, he felt the heat radiating not far from his grip. The sap would burn very hot: this would require some care, he had already told himself. Side slashes and upward thrusts would be better than downward driving blows; it would be imperative to keep his hands, arms, and core clear of the flames rising upward off the steel.
Sesshomaru turned toward the pathway from where the beasts were expected to come up. Whispered updates from the young archer on the rooftop above the gathered stick and melee weapon fighters pegged the enemy at the outskirts of the village. They were ambling at their preattack leisurely, zombic pace, and Sesshomaru savored the last few minutes of calm before the storm of battle.
He held his sword in front of him. The glow of it in the dark of the night reminded him of a beacon. Yes, he was the kind of warrior that even in this form would welcome his foe into his deathly embrace, he thought to himself. An unconscious smirk quirked his lips, and as he realized he was actually smiling outwardly, he got distracted from his thoughts by the sight of the two human youths stepping up to the frontline alongside him. He surveyed their stance, as they each held their burning sticks up. Though both siblings wore determined looks, it was obvious from just looking at them, neither of them had any experience in use of a combat weapon of any kind.
Thinking it was possibly against his better judgment, the slate-grey haired man clicked his tongue a couple times, loudly enough for the boy to turn toward the source of the sound. Sesshomaru gestured the pointed finger of his left hand at the two of them, and Kei pulled his sister's sleeve. Looking nervous, Tsukiko shyly nodded her head and gave Sesshomaru a small, tight smile. This demurred, frightened side of her was a stark contrast to her open hospitality of the day before. The current look of her was one which Sesshomaru thought did not really suit the innocent, inexperienced girl at all. A past memory of Rin's smiling face, younger and in a more carefree time of his recollection, flashed in his memory. He re-committed himself to a rather uncharacteristic decision he had just made. "You two – come close to me," he said calmly, having turned over his pointing hand in order to gruffly beckon them closer.
Tsukiko paused for a moment, stopping her younger brother, but ultimately she approached, trailed by Kei. Sesshomaru looked up and down the brother and sister as they came to stand at his side, and he noticed that Tsukiko's expression was not only nervous but she also seemed to be observing him in a withdrawn manner. Perhaps like the other villagers, she had grown wary of him for his cold, aggressive behavior outside the village hall the night prior. He didn't care though. Despite her being unrefined culturally, he realized she had attempted to show him some kindness – he had begun to think that it was not so unlike something that Rin would do, and he hoped that Rin would always be repaid her kindnesses. He would see if he could do this for Tsukiko now, but also on a baser level, he hoped that she might be a helpful assistant to him in the battle – they likely had only moments left now.
Again, looking at Kei and Tsukiko, who was about a head taller than her brother, Sesshomaru spoke: "You know to keep those things pointed perfectly tallways whenever you're not wielding them, hn? Because you know that they'll burn slower that way. And you need to keep them away from your bodies, right?" Both siblings nodded seriously, carefully adjusting their already straight grips to be even straighter.
Sesshomaru hn'd approvingly and then continued, speaking formally to emphasize his commands, "You, Tsukiko-san, I want you to shadow me, never letting more than nine paces come between us, and not getting any closer either – do you hear me? That is until once I stab the attacking beasts with my sword. Only then, will you approach and allow the burning end of that stick of yours to crash down upon the beast's body, going specifically for the neck. Do not let up until I say that the flames have done their job." Tsukiko looked stunned at receiving this order from him, but he recognized the resolve in her face. He recalled how she had told him about how losing the village would mean losing everything they had, the one way back for their family members that were away fighting in the human wars. He trusted that she would try her best. Still, he just hoped she wouldn't be too skittish once the blood and gore began to fly... He would try to be fast enough with his sword, and possibly the super-sharp dagger sheathed and tucked inside his waistband, to keep the attacking monsters off of her.
"Boy," he said turning to Kei, who looked a bit uncertain at not having received a task yet when Tsukiko already had. "You're still young and have not reached your full height, so your sister is taller than you. This makes her better to swing the burning branches down on the enemy. But your job is also important. Give your sister your burning stick, so she can dual wield it until the first two sticks are diminished. Then, take your sister's bundle of cut sticks from her back," Sesshomaru ordered, watching. "Yes that's right: you will help her carry them, and whenever you see that the stick she is holding is beginning to flake away past the first three hand lengths of the stick – you must watch closely and stay behind us – then you apply fresh sap to a new stick, one at a time after this point, and get each stick lit in turn in order to hand to her as we go. Can you do that?"
As Sesshomaru finished, the boy screwed up his courage and bravely heralded back, "Hai!"
"Jouzu," Sesshomaru replied simply but approvingly. Just then, his senses pricked, as he heard the loud, angry snap of the archer's bowstring overhead. A moment later, the first attack, a volley of burning arrows, arched and streaked overhead in the night sky like angry comets. Silence fell over the crowd of villagers. Behind him somewhere, Sesshomaru heard the glamorized kitsune hiss a whispered order to the villagers crowded nearest to him: "Get ready!"
Within the same moment, the infernal screech of dark, demonic power being corroded by flame shattered the quiet. Around the side of the high lapping flames of one of the 'blockade" fire pits, the demonic monsters finally charged into view. Several among the front of the attacking herd were already stumbling and twitching as they ran, their mangy coats on fire from the flaming arrows that had pierced them.
Some of the monsters ran askew. With the flames burning away at their undead flesh, they knocked into their fellows, brushing them with the flames. The scene was chaotic, and the first of the monsters barreled ahead. One came directly into Sesshomaru's path.
"Be prepared like I said!" he growled, as he lowered on his knees. Instantly, he sprung for the beast. His burning sword aloft of his right shoulder was ready to fall heavily upon its mark.
These beasts will rue the day they crossed the path of Harumura Village, he told himself and thrust down the blade with all his might .
Its path arching in a beautiful streak of orange flame that waved off it like a ragged banner, the sword connected in a perfect cross section against the shoulder of the charging monster.
:
Miroku sat sweating, as he halted the flight of his fingers through the healing mudras. Defiant, he held up his hands staunchly in the last of the divine motions. It was to no avail though. Beads of sweat tumbled down his temples from the effort of reaching out with all his spiritual energy, but he sensed himself being rebuffed, and Kouga's weak body showed no change.
Suddenly, Kohaku's soft calling from the entryway startled the monk: "Miroku, how're you doing in there?"
Miroku's stomach churned anxiously. He had already burned through much of the borrowed time he had in this cave. Forlorn tears pricked at the backs of his eyes, but the monk knew what he had to do. Standing up despite the fatigue he already felt, he took up his staff and unwrapped the metal rings at the top, stowing the fabric square in his robes.
He cleared his throat and spoke as evenly and clearly as he could so that his brother-in-law could hear him. "Kohaku, the typical methods are not working, so I will try to work as quickly as possible to complete the big ritual, but once it's started it must not be interrupted. Whatever you do, do not enter the main area of this cave until I say it's alright. Understood?"
A heavy silence followed, and Miroku was sure that Kohaku was weighing out whether to try to stop this madness. He almost wished the younger man would, but on the other hand, Miroku knew that he couldn't possibly leave Kouga here like this after all that they'd fought for together.
"Understood," Kohaku replied seriously, his voice traveling around the rocky edge of the wall where he stood out of sight of the main area of the cave. "Hachi, Hakkaku, and I will give you all the time that you need."
"Thank you, Kohaku," Miroku answered solemnly, as he forced himself to reach for the old, dark-papered scroll of the forbidden sutras. Unrolling the ancient, leathery text, he allowed the last whispered words to fall from his lips before he started the ritual incantation: "I'm so sorry, my dear Sango."