DISCLAIMER: Inuyasha is property of Takahashi Rumiko.


A Path Less Trodden

3.

Human Things

"Denka-sama, may I assist you?"

Sesshomaru waved his hand, not bothering to open his eyes or otherwise acknowledge the little human. He lounged beneath a large, bare branched tree, his back against the trunk and face lifted to the sky. The sun had barely risen, and the morning chill was a little deeper than the day before, accompanied by a drizzle that was on its way of turning into heavy rain. The ground was littered with fallen leaves, still wet with dew, and the naked branched rustled in the weak wind, spreading a sense of quiet serenity all around.

The soft drops falling against his skin abruptly ceased, and instead the sound of water smacking gently against paper filled the space, along with the smell of ozone.

Sesshomaru had steadily travelled North in search of colder climate to quell his raging anger at the uselessness of his father's bastard, and the human girl followed him quietly and willingly. He had not ordered it, this time, and hadn't taken her, either. Sesshomaru simply walked, maintaining a leisurely pace, and she walked after - several steps behind unless it rained, as it did now. On days like these, the short child would hurry to his side, strain to walk on the very tips of her toes and hold a simple paper umbrella above his head. After the rain, when the paths were muddier and harder to traverse, she would fold the edges of his mokomoko in a long silk cloth she kept in pristine condition, and carefully prevent the fur from touching the earth.

Of course, the girl always requested permission beforehand - and that was the only reason Sesshomaru allowed the actions.

"Why do you address this One as such?" he had asked after the first time she'd called him 'denka-sama'.

"I don't know your name," the girl had mumbled shyly. "And I don't know your proper title but I… I thought you must be royalty."

"This One has no relation to such human concepts," Sesshomaru sneered, but because she was a child and hadn't known better, and because she showed deference, he continued: "this One is named Sesshomaru. Use it as you will."

She'd stuck with 'denka-sama', always accompanied by a bow of some sort, always spoken softly with a touch of reverent awe that only grew whenever he'd displayed even a fraction of his power. The girl was uncommonly polite and soft spoken, but Sesshomaru had paid enough attention by now to know it was not her natural disposition.

Though she had never dared so much as scowl in his direction, the girl was capable of spitefulness enough to stun even the most vicious of courtesans, and Sesshomaru witnessed enough of those to pass this verdict. Higurashi Kagome always approached others with politeness but if she was not treated in kind the pleasant appearance quickly changed to accommodate the situation: angry, rude, vicious. A steel spine, a coy smirk. She'd not been adept at it, at first, but out of necessity she'd learned. Sesshomaru had allowed her to follow him, but he had no intention to do anything beyond that - and so she had to learn.

The paper umbrella in her hands was received in exchange for setting the bone of a travelling merchant a few days ago. Sesshomaru had ignored the cries for help and carried on even when the girl answered them. She'd caught up to him several hours later, clutching the second-hand object with both hands and smiling hugely, immensely pleased with herself.

The clothes on her back were charity, she said. Sesshomaru had left her for close to two days and when he returned, she'd had them on, her old rags nowhere to be seen.

She carried an old dagger tied to her waist, scavenged from dead bandits they'd passed.

The girl took care of herself and asked Sesshomaru for nothing, which worked in her favour: she was the sole being to never ask anything of him.

The chilly wind picked up and Sesshomaru heard the child shiver. Next, he heard her sniffle and a few moments later, as the rain grew stronger, she'd coughed. He opened one eye to grant her a reproachful stare for being unnecessary loud, but promptly opened his other eye and stared curiously at the whiteness of her fingers, grasping the umbrella above his head, and the blue tint to her lips.

The child blinked her round blue eyes at him and shivered but said nothing.

"Why are you shivering?"

"I'm cold, denka-sama."

Sesshomaru stared at her and wondered at the fact she wasn't lying. The child really was cold, though he himself felt close to overheating, despite the rain.

"It is because you are young." He decided after a long moment.

"It's nearing winter, denka-sama," she looked at him balefully, as if she couldn't quite believe her ears. "I don't think my age is relevant."

"Do humans not grow sturdier with time?" Sesshomaru drawled.

"Um, no. It's sort of the opposite, really."

"Explain."

She frowned and chewed her dark bottom lip, making it seem almost purple as blood gushed towards the abused area. Sesshomaru raised an eyebrow at the peculiar habit but let her think before she spoke. It was good practice to have, and if she could use it now, as a child, then it would undoubtedly mark her as a cautious adult.

"Well, human lives are short." She said, a little dully. "Where I am from, most make it to just shy of ninety and by that time they can't survive on their own. My grandfather just celebrated his eighty third birthday, and he's considered virile for his age because he can walk around unaided, and still runs the family shrine."

Sesshomaru gave one lazy blink against the onslaught of information.

He'd known humans were fragile and short-lived, but just ninety years? When he was ninety he'd not yet been allowed out of his mother's sight, considered to be little more than a newborn. He had assumed humans could at least make it to two hundred if his father bothered to dally with them, otherwise what was the point? Just ninety years. Such a short hiccup of an existence would end before any youkai worth their salt would notice.

The girl's family maintained a shrine - or at least her grandfather did. This could mean a lot of things, but before Sesshomaru could truly wonder at them she'd continued speaking slowly, her teeth knocking together as she trembled.

"I'm sixteen," the girl said and Sesshomaru almost gaped. Almost. "Where I'm from, I'm not considered an adult yet -"

'You are little more than a babe.' Sesshomaru thought, taken aback by just how little she had lived. He'd known she was a child still, but he thought her older. When he was sixteen, his teeth had not yet finished growing.

" - but I am thought to be just entering my prime. At around forty people start complaining that they've aged." The girl twisted her nose, moved one hand to cover her mouth and sneezed into it.

"Why do you do this?"

"Do what?"

"Cover your mouth."

"Oh," she blinked. "It's to stopp my germs from spreading onto you."

Sesshomaru raised his eyebrow again and her pasty cheeks reddened slightly.

"Germs cause diseases," she explained in a mutter.

"This One is immune," he assured, a little bit mockingly.

"It's still the polite thing to do."

Sesshomaru acknowledged that she was correct. He didn't want to be sprayed by her saliva and mucus, or even smell her breath directly in his face.

The girl suppressed another shudder and Sesshomaru abruptly got up. He tossed his outer robe over her, trusting that the youkai cloth would grant her the warmth human clothing couldn't. Then he'd pried the umbrella from her stiff fingers, which maintained their hold despite her evident surprise, and raised it above their heads.

"Come."

"Denka-sama," she said shakily. "Allow me to assist you."

He snorted and she obediently stopped reaching for the umbrella. Instead, she'd picked up the edges of his mokomoko again, wrapped them in the silk and huddled as close to his back as she dared.

"This One is the Lord of the West," Sesshomaru said as they walked.

"Then… Oyakata-sama?" she tried and he nearly smirked. She was close, but not quite.

"Youkai have no nobility, only power." He said instead.

"Sesshomaru-sama is powerful." She easily picked up on his hidden instruction, spoke confidently. "The strongest."

"Flattery is empty."

"I feel it," she insisted. "Sesshomaru-sama is a monsoon surrounded by little drizzles."

"Then what are you?"

Sixteen years old, able to fight for her survival for hours on end, desperate enough to survive that she would fight herself to death by exhaustion, rather than defeat.

"I'm human," he heard the fabric rustle as she shrugged. "I'm probably not even morning fog."

Sixteen years old, capable of considering her words before she spoke, capable of restraint, adaptable to her surroundings. A mere child, who can live only ninety years.

"But…" she grabbed onto the loose fabric of his hakama, and the act was both predictable and startling. The girl had never touched without permission before, but this was not quite touching, nor exactly unprovoked. "I - I'd like to be rain, too."

Sesshomaru paused in his steps and threw her a look over his shoulder.

"Could you… could you teach me?"

Could he? Teach a human babe the way of power when he only knew the demon path? Should he? Would he?

Sesshomaru considered her. A century ago, he'd unintentionally and unwillingly taken on a retainer that grated on his nerves and wasn't of much use. He'd still taken the creature and not denied it. Could he take a human, not yet an adult but already so close to death, and have a use for her? The girl was obedient. She did not irritate him. So far she had never once disobeyed or failed to follow his orders, either, even when they weren't explicitly pointed out to her… unlike aforementioned retainer.

"Hm."

The child abruptly let go of his hakama, muttered a breathy thanks and, in a rustle of fabric, bundled herself deeper into Sesshomaru's outer robe - along with what she could reach of his mokomoko. Yes, she was quite smart.

She'll do as his first pupil.