I AM ALIVE! I promise no matter how long the breaks in between chapters, I am working on this story in some way, shape, or form. Thank you so much for not giving up on me, and I hope you guys enjoy as always. Love yoouu~
(p.s. I had no idea the first few hours that this chapter has been posted it was all janky, pls forgive my screw up!)
They flew through the sky on Ah Un's back for a solid six hours before Toshiro dared touch them down. He endured his growling belly, and his brother –snoring and drooling– splayed across his back, and the need to relieve himself, because they needed to go. Even knowing that they still had more than a day's head start on their parents, even with the dragon Uncle Sesshomaru lent them moving at speeds that should have been impossible, they needed to move.
If he didn't get behind those wards before his parents awoke, he'd be dragged back to Musashi and grounded for real this time… in a shallow grave… that no one would ever find.
He had to get to the Southern Border as quickly as possible.
So, when he steered the dragon down into a small clearing Toshiro made it abundantly clear that an hour of rest was all they'd get before they were back on their way. Shippou leapt from the saddle and darted into the trees as if his tail were on fire, Toshiro chuckling to himself as he slid from Ah Un's back, unsure if the kit had even heard him. He supposed his brother had really had to go too.
They were deep into the West already, could smell their Uncle faintly throughout as if Sesshomaru had wanted to make sure the denizens knew every inch of the territory belonged to him. His parents were still no doubt unconscious, being watched over by the Youkai of the West as he'd promised to do. The sun was just rising, beams of red and orange breaking through the trees to dance along the forest floor and Toshiro's cheeks in patches of warmth.
Toshiro turned to the two headed youkai grazing beside him and patted both their snouts, murmuring thanks and praise for pressing so far and so quickly. The dragon chittered and clicked at him, all four of their eyes dilated and delighted at the thrill of being one with the wind and the sky for so long, their two mouths and four cheeks full to bursting with grass and wildflowers.
Toshiro had a trove of things to be shameful for, but at least Ah Un didn't look a bit winded or resentful at having to lug them around.
After the hanyou pup relieved himself, he went about digging through Ah Un's saddle bags for breakfast. Uncle Sesshomaru had packed skins of water, dried meat bundles tied together with twine, and cloth pouches full of berries and nuts, knowing that they wouldn't have time to hunt. Toshiro discretely wrapped a hand around the separate pouches he'd kept in his hakama pocket. Uncle had given those to him too, right before the pup had dragged Shippou out of sleep and they'd taken off. The cold of the Shikon no Tama bumped against his fingers as he closed his fist around the hidden sacks, flickering awake as if to say hello, as if to let him know that it knew what wrongs he were about to commit.
The jewel had been whispering at him the whole journey, poking and prodding and distracting him as if it were Myouga taking a taste of his blood with his stinger. Toshiro had found his mind wandering against his will, wondering what would happen if he sent a bit of his power into it and poked back, what would happen if he took the Shikon no Tama into himself. What would he become? How strong would he be? But he'd shaken his head each time those kinds of thoughts intruded on him, refusing the pull. That wasn't why he'd taken it, he reminded himself whenever his head cleared, wasn't why he was doing this. He was content with who he was, he was proud of who he'd become. He only needed the Shikon no Tama to lure his parents into finding him, into following the trail of the jewel to the border no one seemed able to find.
That was it.
Toshiro took a huge deep breath instead of acknowledging the jewel now, instead of letting himself be drawn into its strange power. Willed it back to slumber. The lingering scent of his uncle through the wood helped, helped him find his resolve and draw back the claws of anxiety, and doubt, and guilt that had begun to slowly close around his throat the farther he got from home, the more he realized how far the tangles of his betrayals would reach.
When the jewel stopped its probing at him, he almost sighed. He plastered an easy smirk on his face instead, pulled their goods from the saddlebag, and turned to toss his brother one of the pouches from his pocket. But he found Shippou collapsed against Moeru's transformed side in exhaustion, a heavy snore coming from his throat and his face smushed into thick black fur. The saber himself was stretched out in the grass, still in giant form, and staring pointedly into the trees.
Moeru hadn't been exactly... happy… with Toshiro since their departure from the village. He'd flown beside them in his transformed state most of the way, his huge paws aflame, glaring or growling at Toshiro whenever the other male tried to speak to him or catch his eye. At one point the hanyou had almost asked if he could ride Moeru like Sango did Kirara –the saber was more than large enough now for him to do so— but he'd thought better of it. Moeru had only ridden with them in his small form when he was absolutely exhausted, and even then didn't burrow himself atop Toshiro's head like he usually did for rest, choosing instead to curl against the small of Shippou's back in Ah Un's saddle, pointedly as far away from his hanyou partner as he could get.
With the mood the feline had been in, Moeru would probably bite him before he ever let the pup hitch a ride on his back.
Regardless, it was nice now to see his partner and his brother curled around one another when months ago they would have rather been at each other's throats. Thinking about how far they'd come, how strong the bonds he himself had built had become, sent warmth washing through his veins like a hearth fire. He smiled fondly at the pair of them, ignoring the way Moeru's ears folded back in annoyance at Toshiro's approach. The pup tucked some of the food into the crook of his little brother's arm, then turned to hold out more in offering to his saber.
Who growled and laid his massive head against his paws, soundly ignoring him.
Toshiro tutted and settled onto the ground by Moeru's head, placing the bounty of dried meat and nuts and berries within his reach. He unwrapped one of his own little pouches, shoving food into his mouth and tilting his head, imploring the other male to meet his eyes. When the saber just grumbled dramatically and turned the other way Toshiro sighed.
"Come on you big housecat, you need to eat. And you can't stay mad at me forever."
Moeru whipped his head around to glare daggers at him then, his ruby eyes blazing.
Why can't I?
"Because you love me." Toshiro shrugged and untwined a bundle of jerky. After he shoveled meat into his mouth he went on. "And because I can't do this if you're against me too."
He was Toshiro's best friend. The saber had seen every wretched, broken fragment of the hanyou's soul from the beginning and had not balked, had chosen him from the moment they'd met. And while Toshiro knew that Moeru would always choose him, would have his back until their last days, he needed to know that someone understood why he had to do this. He needed someone to believe that he could face Orochi, and his aunt, and his past and make things right. That someone trusted that he could make it into the hidden city and out alive, that he would be strong enough. Because the closer they got to the South the less Toshiro believed it himself.
His partner snorted at him in exasperation, in affection, and then swallowed the food placed before him in one big chomp, cloth pouches and twine and all.
Toshiro averted his eyes, willed his youki to remain calm.
"Don't get too comfortable." He cleared his throat, tossing the last of his food back and wiping his hands off on his clothes as he rose, suddenly anxious to get away from Moeru's probing eyes. "We're only here long enough for Ah Un to eat and rest and then we're back in the air."
Moeru chuffed around his fangs to get his attention as he walked away and Toshiro half turned, forcing himself to meet his gaze. In them he saw that the saber understood everything he'd been unable to say, that he'd read the hanyou's soul and silent plea as easily as Toshiro had always been able to read him. He hoped to the Gods that Moeru couldn't see the crushing guilt there too.
I believe in you. Smoldering red said to him. You're an idiot, but I will always believe in you.
Toshiro smiled, his lip wavering, and turned to tend to Ah Un before his partner could see the shame and tears lining his eyes.
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Toshiro didn't expect it. Uncle Sesshomaru had said that his blood was attuned to the barrier, that he would be able to sense its location, but he didn't expect to feel it the moment they made it into the South.
Once they'd been rested and watered they'd continued their travel, every bite Shippou took of his snack pouch grating against Toshiro's nerves. Each crunch and munch sounded like traitor, betrayer, liar, in Toshiro's ears. It was a struggle to keep his emotions and youki in check –he couldn't let them scent anything amiss on him— but somehow, he managed. He steered Ah Un South generally for hours, trampling down his emotions until he could hardly feel them. Then the hanyou pup came to attention and out of his head when they arrived into actual Southern territory, when he felt the moment they crossed the border in his very bones.
From upon the dragons back he could see miles and miles of wilds in every direction, he could hear the hum of creatures above and below about their business. But he could feel something else. Something beside the human settlements and the rivers that ran through the land like veins, beside the afternoon sun beating down on the back of his neck. His instincts were going haywire, something intrinsic inside him sensing that there was more here that he was meant to find. Hidden. It was like a seventh sense he'd never realized he'd had had suddenly come into sharp focus, an insistent pull in the back of his mind. He felt his youki jump and spark in interest and answer the farther they flew into Southern territory, felt the Shikon no Tama flicker against him in response to the surge of his power, trying to tempt him.
He faintly remembered a dull version of this feeling under his skin from the night he'd run away. But it had been so long ago, and he had been so wholly different. Terrified, tortured, and so unaware of himself that it was no surprise to him that he hadn't known where or when he'd crossed that barrier out of the hidden inu city and into the South proper. It was no surprise that he'd had no clue about his youki at all, about his power, when he'd spent so many years being taught and beaten into believing that he hardly deserved to breath.
But he knew better now. He knew who he was, what he deserved of this world, who he'd risk his life protecting. And he knew exactly where to go.
There was no turning back, no point in letting himself succumb to his fear and doubt when he'd chosen this, when he was determined to see this through to whatever end so long as Kaede and Misa were avenged, so long as the rest of his family was left alone. He yanked Ah Un's reigns South West over the trees with newfound purpose, unaware of the bewildered look Moeru shot him from where he flew. The saber kicked his flaming feet and turned at a sharp angle to follow after his partner, a snarl rumbling around his extended fangs. Toshiro ignored the saber's grumbling, his brother peppering him with questions at his back at their sudden change in trajectory, and followed his blood.
After an hour or so Toshiro was almost vibrating out of the saddle with nerves and anticipation. The day had grown hot, the air full and humid, but Toshiro was kept from sweating by the strange, cool material of the Ikuchi hakama and haori against his skin. The youkai clothing made every humid, hot gust of wind into a cool breeze against his skin, made the thrum of his youki cool in his blood each time it swelled with his anxiety. They continued South West until they could smell a sharp change around them, until a heavy, salt lined scent hung heavy in the air and the forest began to thin. Until they could see it. All of his impatient, uneasy wriggling ceased when they finally caught a glimpse of blue beyond the treetops, when a speck turned into a glittering expanse that went on for miles that seemed like forever; the ocean. Shippou gasped, even Moeru stopped fussing long enough to stare as they pulled up short in midair.
It was vast, and beautiful, and a bit terrifying.
Toshiro's own breath was caught in his throat, but not because of the beauty and immensity of the water. The incessant, determined itch, the humming under his skin, had become so strong that he could hardly see straight. There was white noise in his ears, just like the time when their father had used his Wind Scar to take down a herd of rampaging ox youkai and he'd been too close. He'd heard the same tin-y, high pitched noise, and their mother had stuffed tufts of cotton is his ears because they'd been sensitive for hours after the explosion. He had no clue how other creatures couldn't sense the Southern barrier, couldn't tell that it was there.
Just there… a mile or so ahead, right where the forest's great oaks ended and the land arched downward and was taken over by rocky, sand covered cliffs and hills.
He steered Ah Un forward, his heart hammering a tattoo in his chest.
They'd made it.
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From where they stood, they could see the glimmer of the sun off of the ocean, could pinpoint where the terrain went from grass to gravel and sand. It was near silent, the forest and its sounds distant at their backs, the crash of waves against the beach below their only company.
Toshiro knew the image, the sounds, were lies.
He felt the magic of it in his blood. He somehow knew that if he took a few more steps forward he would no longer see desolate cliffs and vegetation, that if he descended the sandy hill but a few feet ahead of him that he would see a sprawling, shining city along the beach below. The excitement, the fear, coursing through him almost made him dizzy.
He cast a glance beside him and saw that Shippou was looking at the glamoured scene with awe and confusion in his eyes. It was strange, the hanyou pup thought, experiencing something his brother couldn't.
"What is that?"
Toshiro blinked. "What do you mean?"
Shippou shook his head a little, then winced as if doing so hurt. His jade eyes were wide, and unfocused, and a bit glazed as he looked from the hills and ocean and beach below, to his brother, and back. His paws were digging into the strange mix of gravel, and sand, and soil at his feet.
"I feel this weird… prickling? Like standing here makes me want to jump out of my skin."
Toshiro's ears flicked. "You can-you can sense the barrier?"
The pup glanced to where Ah Un and Moeru were standing behind them, but the former was munching happily away on the low hanging leaves of a nearby tree, and the latter was glaring at them in his own dazed, tired sort of confusion.
I can't sense anything.
Huh. Maybe what Master Totosai said about their scents combining went deeper than skin. Shippou laid a hand on AoKaen's handle as if in confirmation.
"I definitely sense… something, but its clouded." His brother went on, his voice hushed, as if he were afraid to wake a slumbering beast. "Like a taste on the back of my tongue that I can't name, or an itch that I can't quite reach. But at the same time my skin is… crawling, like-like I'm not supposed to be here. Everything in me is telling me not to be here. Is it like that for you?"
Toshiro turned back to the cliff a few meters ahead, knowing somehow that the southern inu had stayed hidden so long because the barrier willed it, that it caused confusion and wariness in those who would enter until they fumbled away without remembering why. But he didn't feel any of those things. Standing near the barrier made him feel energized, hyper aware of every hair on his head like he'd had Kaede's strong morning tea injected straight into his veins. He felt it calling him, ready to welcome him in if only he would take those last few steps.
"No. I don't feel anything like—"
Shippou suddenly stumbled, colliding heavily into Toshiro's side with a pained groan. The hanyou caught his brother on instinct, cursing under his weight. Panic shot through him initially, had they been attacked? Did someone find them, see them descending from the sky? But those thoughts were quickly silenced, that panic was quickly smothered with guilt, when he remembered what he'd done. When he looked down at his brother and saw spots of scarlet burning on his cheekbones as the kitsune's body tried to fight off the poisoned food Toshiro had slipped him hours ago.
He lowered the kit to the ground and felt a lump rise in his throat when Shippou blinked confused, rapidly glazing eyes up at him.
"Something-something d-doesn't feel right aniki..." Shippou got out in a rushed, labored breath. Toshiro shushed him, ran the back of his fingers down his flushed cheek, cradled him tighter to his chest like a babe. "I thought it was just a stomach ache but—Is it-is it the barrier?"
The hanyou slowly, shamefully, pulled the remnants of their rations from his hakama pocket with his free hand, letting his brother see what he held. He heard Shippou's stuttered breath catch the moment he realized what his brother had done, felt as if a clawed hand were squeezing around his heart hard enough to crush it. Toshiro nodded though, and murmured, "It's… it's just temporary. You're gonna be okay, Shipp."
Shippou was blinking repeatedly up at him in an attempt to clear his head, as if he couldn't make his mind and heart comprehend that his brother had betrayed him again. His blurring eyes were incredulous, his strained voice shaking with fury and oncoming sleep. Toshiro's ears swiveled at the telltale sound of Moeru dropping to the grass behind them, and he blinked back tears.
Shippou's eyes flicked over his brother's shoulder, as if he could see where the saber kitten had collapsed, and he whispered, "What did you do?"
Toshiro swallowed, lowered his head, then called out a sharp two-tone whistle to get Ah Un's attention. When the dragon tromped over Toshiro bid it to sit in a low voice. Shippou tried to fight him, tried to thrash around in his brother's embrace in outrage, but already the oleander oil was taking its toll. Already the strength was being sapped from him, the death grip he'd had on Toshiro's haori weak and easy to break, his eyelids drooping as he fought to stay conscious. Toshiro tried his best to arrange his brother's loosening body as comfortably as he could against the dragon's hide, then rose and went to scoop up his saber from where he'd already been quiet and unconscious in the dirt. The feeling of Moeru small and limp in his arms caused the tears to finally fall from Toshiro's eyes, made him feel as unclean as he'd been when he lived day after day covered in his own blood and excrement. He sniffled and placed the feline beside Shippou carefully, gently, and finally made himself look up.
If looks could kill, Toshiro wouldn't have had to worry about his aunt at all.
But he refused to let his head dip as it wanted to, forced himself to face the hurt and livid, near murderous rage boiling in Shippou's clouded eyes. Inuyasha had taught them what it meant to be an upstanding male, that Toshiro had to take responsibility for his choices and how they affected those around him no matter how hard that responsibility might be. The pup knew this betrayal would cut deep, knew that he could have told his brother and his partner what he truly planned to do without poisoning them, without lying to them. But Katsumi was bound to drag Toshiro to the Southern Keep as soon as she got word or smell of him. And he knew her; she would not kill him right away. She would take his return as a chance to publicly humiliate him, hurt him in whatever cruel and dramatic fashion she'd been fantasizing these months he'd been gone. She would be sure to remind him of where she thought he belonged, like she'd done his whole life. And she'd let Orochi and his band of psychotic followers kill Shippou and Moeru in front of him for spite.
Toshiro couldn't risk it, wouldn't risk them.
He didn't explain any of this now, and didn't have the time or voice to do so.
"What did you d—"
Shippou's words cut off with a quivering huff as he was finally pulled under, his body relaxing all at once as he slumped against Ah Un's side. Toshiro let his tears fall, let himself run his claws though Shippou's bangs a last time. The kit's forehead was damp with sweat and his breathing was already deep, but he would be okay. His little brother would be fine. His youkai blood would work through the oleander flower's poison in a few hours, much quicker than their human mother's or their hanyou father's. He'd wake, disoriented but unharmed, and hopefully by then their parents would have arrived and Toshiro would have figured out a way to use his lineage to let them all inside the barrier and into the Southern City.
Ah Un was snuffling at the prone boys curiously, chittering and clicking with worry this time. Ah ran its tongue through Shippou's hair adoringly, Un nudged at Moeru's cheek with its nose, and Toshiro looked away.
He took a shuddering breath. "Protect them, please."
Ah Un was thousands of years old, a trusted beast of the Lord of the West; they could protect the boys until their family got there. And there was not a doubt in the hanyou's mind that their parents would come storming into the South soon if they were not already on their way, already following the scent of their errant sons and the single trace of the jewel as they had done years ago. It would not have surprised Toshiro if they had found some way to trounce the poison well before they were supposed to, and were already awake and furious. Ah Un settled onto the ground and wrapped their tail around Toshiro's loved ones in answer to the hanyou's whispered plea, their four eyes calm and steady and sure.
So, the hanyou took a deep, centering breath, stood, and took his leave.
He felt the zing of the barrier against his skin as he took those final, damning steps forward. He gasped lowly at the feeling, at how his youki perked its head up in his veins at the new sensation, ready to defend him. But the shock wasn't one of pain. More of… awaking. Of realizing the beauty of a sight that had always been there but you'd never appreciated, of crossing your eyes and realizing that there had always been a nose in the middle of your face. The pup took a deep breath and passed through, and didn't acknowledge the way his chest stuttered. Didn't acknowledge the fear and power that was coursing through him as if stepping through the barrier had fueled him, as if it had been waiting for its heir to return home. He fought to keep his youki under control as he moved forward, and didn't acknowledge the jewel that had begun whispering at him like a lover when it sensed his frazzled state. It was both terrifying and empowering, knowing that he could breach this centuries old barrier with barely a thought.
He could somehow feel Ah-Un, Shippou, and Moeru beyond the barrier, their heartbeats a consistent thrum in the back of his head like a song that he couldn't forget. When he looked back he could still clearly see them, the Lord of the West's dragon blinking in confusion at the space where Toshiro had presumably disappeared, their body wrapped protectively around where Toshiro's partner and brother lay unconscious in the gravel and grass.
Uncle Sesshomaru had poisoned those few nut and berry pouches lightly, knowing that Toshiro's wish was for Shippou and Moeru to only be out long enough for the pup to get away, for the barrier to close around him so they would be spared from what he was about to do and the people he would face. The others would find them, and they would be protected when his family breached the barrier as a pack. They would wake in a few hours and all they would see is the forest's edge and the hills and the ocean, all they would feel would be this final betrayal.
He'd broken his pack's trust again, and this time he didn't think they would forgive him. But it had to be this way. He knew it would all be worth it in the end if he accomplished his goal, even if his parents didn't arrive before Katsumi began to tear into him. He would hold out though, he would not take his last breath until he felt his family outside the barrier and willed them in. Lady Katsumi of the Southern Inu's breaths were numbered regardless of whether he survived the day or not. He turned away from the image of his family, wondering if it would be the last time he ever saw of them.
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Peeling her eyes open felt like pulling apart glue stuck paper. Kagome's head was pounding, and her stomach was rolling, and she had to pee so bad it felt like she was going to burst at the seams. She sat up with a heavy groan, a hand going to her head as sharp, hot pain sparked behind her eyes.
She blinked against a brightness, and saw with an increasing confusion that the light that was searing her eyes was the setting sun bursting in from above through the half demolished wooden planks of their hut. She'd been laid out in the bedroom her and Inuyasha shared for some reason. Her hanyou was beside her, out cold but twitching in his sleep as if he were fighting his way awake. His Tetsuiaga was nowhere to be found, and his hair was silver again.
W-what happened? Why was the miko's memory in shards and pieces? She knew that she and Inuyasha had spent the day helping to rebuild the villages market stalls. That the hard labor in the hot sun had kept her busy, had kept her from circling grieving thoughts of Kaede and the primal rage and helplessness that encompassed her whenever she thought of that witch Katsumi. She knew that Sango, Miroku, and Shippou had set up dinner under the boughs of Goshinboku because the night had been warm, and that by the time she and her hanyou had arrived that he had in fact been human, the sun long gone and Inuyasha's eyes a warm brown that she only got to see once a month. There had been blankets, and a camp fire, and small lanterns placed about that cast the God Tree into a comforting shadow at their backs.
The others had said that Toshiro had joined Sesshomaru in hunting when they'd arrived, and Kagome remembered the hot, hard relief that had pulsed through her at the knowledge.
She knew that her son had admired Kaede, that the old miko's patience and willingness to teach him had been a large part of the reason he had become so skilled at manipulating his youki, and become more comfortable with himself as a whole. She knew that he loved her like family, as they all did. She knew that he missed her terribly, as they all did. They were all grieving her loss, all going through the motions of repairing their home and caring for their people during the day, and losing the battles with nightmares and tears at night.
But since they'd found Kaede those weeks ago Toshiro had been brooding and. . . cold. Toshiro had become extremely affectionate since their battle with Laiko; he was quick to grasp onto a hand when walking, or snuggle into a side during meals, or kiss a cheek if one was near no matter which of his pack it was. But her eldest son had withdrawn into himself since Kaede was killed, distant and distracted in his grief in a way different than that of the rest of their family. And she sometimes saw his eyes flash with a terrible malice and. . . hatred, as if he spent his free time imagining making his aunt pay in blood, as if he'd gladly burn down the whole of Edo Japan if it meant that he didn't have to lose anyone else.
It scared her.
That he'd been eager to train earlier in the day, and that he'd volunteered to help his uncle of his own volition, had given her hope, had let her release a sigh of dizzying relief for the first time in what felt like forever.
She remembered sagging against Inuyasha's chest as they settled on the blankets under Goshinboku last night, his hands warm and strong as he worked the tired muscles in her back. Sango had been settled between her husband's knees as well, her belly near bursting and her own strained muscles being attended to. She remembered the way Shippou had been laid with his head gently against Sango's belly, and the way that he whispered promises of protection and love to the babies inside. She remembered her intended grunting about his eldest son and brother taking too long with dinner, his nose tucked against the healing mating bite on Kagome's shoulder as if snuffing at it comforted him even though he was human for the night. She remembered finally beginning to relax for the first time in weeks, and how a rare moment of peace had finally again wormed its way inside her heart when her wayward son and future brother-in-law had appeared.
But Kagome didn't remember much after that.
She groaned again as her stomach rolled, her body sore and aching for reasons she didn't understand. She put her head between her knees as another wave of nausea rocked her, throwing off the comforter pooled around her waist and breathing shallowly as she tried to get her bearings. How had they gotten home, and why were they even here? They hadn't been back to their half-destroyed hut in weeks. Where were her children? Why couldn't she remember what happened last night? And why did Kagome feel a sick, urgent anxiety in her bones?
It was then that she noticed that the Lord of the West himself was seated crossed legged by her feet, his eyes intent on her and looking for all the world as if he'd been guarding them while she and her hanyou slept. But why? And against what?
"What-what happened?" Kagome croaked.
Sesshomaru blinked at her, his back stiff and straighter than usual.
Which was saying something.
His mouth was opening and closing, as if he were working himself up to say something grand. His golden eyes kept flicking over to his half-brother, who had begun groaning lowly on their futon while Kagome fought with her body and memory. Inuyasha was finally beginning to come awake.
She gasped before Sesshomaru could speak, all at once identifying what that off feeling had been, why she'd felt that bone deep sense of wrongness since the moment she'd opened her eyes. Her hand flew to her throat and found it empty of both the Shikon no Tama and the chain that held it. Her heart began to gallop as she cast her aura out blindly, praying to Kami that it had been misplaced, that the neckless had simply fallen off and was tangled in their blankets and sheets. But of course, it wasn't. It was gone. It was gone. She'd spent eight years of her life finding and combining those shards, had almost died dozens of times protecting them, had defeated Nuraku so she could finally complete the jewel. And it was just gone. Kagome sensed it, as she always sensed it, but it was not in their bedding, or their home, or even their village.
South.
She sensed a dull, faint spark of the Shikon no Tama South.
Kagome's broken memories played back in a spinning reel, the speed in which they surfaced making her feel sick all over again. She suddenly remembered that Toshiro had been strange when they'd returned last night, the boy keeping an even more pronounced distance from her and his father as if he'd been afraid to catch a sickness. She remembered that he wouldn't even meet their eyes, that he'd stuck to Sesshomaru's side like glue, a hand gripped onto the Lord of the West's moko-moko sama the entire night as if he'd needed the support and comfort. They'd eaten a venison stew, Sesshomaru himself handing out the meals in an uncharacteristically domestic fashion. She'd gotten quickly, unnaturally, tired soon after, and Sesshomaru had ushered their sons into walking Miroku and Sango home to allow Kagome and Inuyasha time to rest. And then nothing. Nothing.
What in Kami's name—
Sesshomaru cleared his throat lightly, and she found him standing now, a hand resting on Tetsuaiga's hilt where it was tucked into his sash beside his own swords. He'd been watching her as she spiraled, his eyes imploring and wide in a way Kagome didn't recognize. But she hardly noticed, hardly cared. How had this happened? Where were her children? What had he done?
"What have you done?"
The Lord of the West shifted, swallowed nervously. "Before you murder me, you must listen."
Kagome felt her eye twitch. Her voice was low and hoarse as if she'd been screaming, "Must I?"
Sesshomaru merely nodded, but wisely didn't step closer.
"Where are my sons?"
"Doing something imbecilic, suicidal even, but necessary." Sesshomaru adjusted Tetsuaiga against his hip, another nervous gesture unbefitting him. He was smart to hold onto it, Kagome thought, she was sure that when Inuyasha awoke and found their children gone he'd skewer his brother before she even got close.
She shot to her feet, the way her stomach flipped taking a back seat to her rage. "And you allowed them to?!"
Inuyasha was sitting up now, moaning and groaning. Kagome spared him barely a glance, so lost in her anger and fear that refraining from purifying Sesshomaru where he stood took every bit of her willpower. Toshiro had taken the jewel from her. Sesshomaru had helped him take the jewel, knowing what dangers it attracted, what dangers awaited him and his brother at the Southern shore where they'd no doubt run off to.
Inuyasha croaked, "Why-why are you shouting, woman?"
"Your sons ran off." Kagome bit out, not breaking eye contact with Sesshomaru. "And they've stolen the jewel."
She sensed her hanyou straighten and awaken immediately, felt the air whoosh beside her as he shot to his feet at her side.
"What do you mean, they stole the jewel!"
Sesshomaru's nose scrunched, just the slightest bit, at his brother's outburst. "Children must make their own mistakes, take their own journeys. It fosters strength and growth."
Kagome was going to kill him. "How the hell are they supposed to grow if they're dead?!"
The great Lord of the West, dai youkai and immortal, averted his gaze at the fury he saw in Kagome's own. He cleared his throat. "They will be fine as long as we find them."
Inuyasha stomped forward until he could grab his brother up by the front of his haori and glare into his eyes, his voice was trembling and still groggy from sleep. From the poison Sesshomaru had allowed their son to give them. "And how do you propose that? You said yourself that the only reason you found an entrance was because Katsumi allowed it, let you."
Sesshomaru slapped his brothers hand away from his person, bared his teeth back. "Your mate can sense the jewel can she not? Do you not suppose the boy took the Shikon no Tama because he wanted you to find him, help him?"
"Keh!" Inuyasha reached down and snatched Tetsuaiga from Sesshomaru's belt. He unsheathed the fang in a flash of light and pressed the tip against his brother's throat. "And if they're already behind the barrier? If they're already in danger? What then?!"
"Toshiro is heir to the Southern territory, connected to the magic and wards that have kept the inu hidden for centuries. He will find it, he will be able to enter, and he will live. You've seen his strength."
"He's a child!" Kagome screamed at Inuyasha's side. "A child whose faced trauma's you can't even begin to understand! And you sent him to face those same traumas again, alone?! You didn't see him after his fight with Orochi, you have no idea how hard it was for him to face that man let alone Katsumi. ARE YOU INSANE?!"
Sesshomaru's lips twitched, his eyes were hard and bright as solid gold.
"If we cease this bickering, we can be on our way and reach them before too much harm is done."
Inuyasha growled low in his throat, dug the tip of Tetsuiaga in until a bead of blood bloomed on Sesshomaru's throat. "If any harm is done to my sons, after I wring that bitch Katsumi's neck you're next in line."
Sesshomaru scoffed, but Kagome noted that the hand that batted Tetsuaiga away from his neck was shaking slightly, that as the small cut at his throat healed over that he'd swallowed again. He was afraid for them too.
Kagome shoved past the both of them, not turning to see if they followed her out of their home and toward the forest. Her heart was an anxious beat in her chest, her senses focused on that dull spark so far South. Her boys. Her children. There was no way that she was going to allow them to endanger themselves like this, not without her, not so soon after they'd lost Kaede. Kagome would go South, would follow the jewel.
And when she found that boy, behind the barrier or not, Toshiro was going to get it.
0:0:0:0:
A sudden, out of place chill slithered down Toshiro's spine. He shivered, then forced himself to put the strange dread he felt out of his head as he traversed the foliage surrounding the Southern City.
He'd never thought he'd see this shore again. He remembered the glimpses of it that he would see when he dared to cast his eyes up, he remembered how it glittered in the moonlight the night he'd escaped, how the bite of the ocean's breeze had felt like a balm against his battered and broken skin. He'd had every intention of steering clear from the South at all cost, to leave the people and its Lady and their prejudices behind and to focus solely on his new family. On the life he'd built for himself.
Until he'd found out that his mother had more than likely been killed just for loving someone who was different, until his beloved aunt murdered someone in his new family. Katsumi had made sure to yank up the roots he'd barely planted with poison coated claws, and Toshiro would make sure that she'd pay in turn. . . one way or another.
Now he'd entered through the wards unseen, his noble blood allowing him access others would never receive. Would Katsumi sense him coming? Would she be able to tell that his family would soon be prowling outside the border to her territory? Would she be able to sense where Shippou and Moeru were? Did the barrier react to her the same way it did him, like a sentient thing, opening its arms to him and welcoming him home? He didn't know, and he hoped the answer was no in all regards.
His thoughts and worries were whisked away when the smell of the heavy brine in the air passed under his nose, when he felt the relieving breeze coming from the glittering ocean on the edge of the village. He broke through the final of the trees, and for the first time he properly saw the beauty of the city his birth mother had so loved.
He was on a hill, looking down at the dozens upon dozens of stone houses that snaked along the coast like a living creature. When he had been outside of the barrier there had been only silence, but now that he was past it he couldn't believe that his ancestors had created something so powerful as to hide a place so full of life. He could hear music, and see color, and feel the thrumming heartbeat of the small city from even where he stood. There were docks out by the water, little specks of color that were families playing in the shallows and on the white sand beach, and ships out in the surf where fisherman hunted their prey and wares. There were a million smells in the air; spices, and fish, and sweat, and joy, and so many different inu youkai scents that his heart hammered in his chest trying to keep up with it all.
This was his home.
This was where he'd been born, the territory he'd been meant to rule.
This was the place that Katsumi had twisted into something cruel and unwelcoming, when Uncle Sesshomaru said that Lady Misa had meant it to be a haven and an asylum for those who needed it regardless of their nature.
He pushed himself forward without hesitation, down the rocky side of the hill, not allowing one niggle of anxiety or unease to coat his scent or his thoughts. He'd folded his ears into his hair so they did not show, contained his youki so he could not be sensed, had painted youkai markings along his cheekbones in the dark red berries he'd found in the bush. He knew it would only be so long before someone smelled the dual nature of his blood despite all that, knew that eventually someone would smell the Lady of the South on him and Katsumi's fold would be sent out on the hunt. Her lackeys would capture him, drag him to the southern keep, and Toshiro did not doubt that they would beat him senseless before delivering him to his aunt simply because they could.
He expected it, and he would allow it to give his family time to get here.
Until then he would wander the Southern village, see all the things his dam had loved about this place that had never truly been his.
When he finally reached the outskirts of the city he ducked between two houses and onto a small path, coming up short when he almost trampled over a small inu youkai boy playing with a spinner in the dirt. Both Toshiro and the boy froze, eyes wide as they stared at one another in wonder and confusion. The little male was barely a toddler, his hair a pure white that contrasted starkly against his brown skin, his eyes a pale blue that matched the small youkai markings on his soft cheeks. The pup's nose twitched furiously at Toshiro, trying no doubt to recognize his scent and finding something off about him. He emitted a low, curious whine between his lips, the inu equivalent of who are you?
Toshiro was thankful that his hair was still long enough to cover where his pointed ears should have been. And he hoped to the Gods that the dried berries on his face looked believable, that baby would not cry out and reveal his presence so soon.
The inu hoisted his bottom into the air to help him stand, and tilted his head at Toshiro when he was upright. His bare belly was poked out and extremely round in that toddler way, his hakama pristine and well-made despite playing in the dirt. His eyes were open, and honest, and curious, not a bit of fear touching his scent despite a stranger coming from nowhere. He was obviously well loved. Toshiro smiled uneasily at the pup, then a bit more genuinely when he grinned back at him openly, sharp little canines and dimples on display. Toshiro pressed a finger to his lips and the little inu mimicked him, his giggle like a peal of bells. The hanyou ginned and padded carefully forward and around the boy, keeping careful to avoid the chubby, outstretched hands that reached for him. The last thing he needed was for his scent to get on him, and his parents' wiser nose to pick up on what the pup's nose couldn't.
The inu child called after him, asked where he was going in inu yips and whines, but Toshiro pressed on without looking back, darting across a dirt path into the next available alley.
He saw dozens more inu youkai milling about as he wound between houses and shops, careful to avoid those he saw catering to toddling inu children with pointed ears, and conversing with one another without a care in the world. They were as beautiful as he'd remembered. He saw an inu woman surrounded by a litter of pups around his age, the mother haggling with a round male with bright pink inu markings along his cheeks like cake icing. The pups had their faces pressed against the glass of the storefront, ogling at brightly colored pastries and whining in want. He saw an ancient looking male painting something in deep blue on a wide piece of canvas, his hair dark but smattered throughout with silver. He was sitting cross legged on the dirt road, so many wrinkles on his face that his eyes were closed under the pressure, but his hands were sure and quick as he worked and hummed contentedly to himself. Toshiro wound through alcoves and into alleyways whenever he could, but noticed that no one looked twice at him when he couldn't stick to the shadows.
He got bolder the longer he explored.
He ended up following the unique smell of the ocean until he found himself on the edge of the beach, surrounded by the thickest crowd of inus he'd seen yet, surprised and a little confused to how he'd found himself to be in the middle of what appeared to be a bustling market. Fish, and shells, and bright fabrics were on display at hand-built stalls. Tonics, and colorful paints, and sweet smelling drinks. Inu youkai of all size and shape called their wares, laughed and joked with one another. Inu children darted around and between and under the legs of adults, squealing and jostling and nipping at one another in glee. Before long Toshiro allowed himself to get a bit lost in the clamor and the joy, the thrumming life surrounding him. He could spend forever memorizing the colors and smells, and without conscious thought knew what his next drawing would be if he ever made it back home to Musashi.
"Hello, young one. It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" An inu male dragged Toshiro from his musings. His skin was a dark, rich brown like many of the people here, his youkai markings bright orange and swirling along his high cheekbones like the waves crashing along the beach nearby. His hair was wild and curled and piled atop his head, he was heavily muscled, and had the weathered, sweaty look of someone who worked hard at their job and loved every second of it. Toshiro inched closer at his broad grin and beckoning hand, the smell of something divine driving him. "You've stumbled upon the best fish stall in this village, pup."
The wind chose that moment to shift, and Toshiro swallowed as he saw the male take a reflexive inhale and tense the slightest bit, as he saw the male take note of the difference in his blood much quicker than the child Toshiro had stumbled into earlier, than anyone who'd even glanced at him thus far. The youkai's brown eyes blew wide as he glanced down at Toshiro again, noticing for the first time the concealing clothing so out of place this far south, at the berries beginning to dry and flake along Toshiro's cheekbones. But the male's grin stayed in place, even as he cast his eyes down and began fussing with something in his stall.
"Y'know . . . I used to serve my fish up at the palace, when Lady Katsumi had her dinners."
Toshiro grit his teeth in the proclamation of a smile. "Is that so?"
"Yes~, young one. I take my ship out into the deeps to hunt the wildest fish, you see. And no other stall in the city has my dry rub recipe." His grin became a bit strained then, his eyes darting to each side of him before being cast back down. Toshiro swallowed, but allowed the man to continue. "I wonder why she shut down the keep so suddenly those months ago, why she hasn't been holding her famous shindigs. Wasn't right, that."
The male glanced quickly, pointedly, up to the space where Toshiro's right ear would be had he not been holding them under his hair. Toshiro wondered how many times this male had seen him kneeling beside Katsumi's throne over the years, wondered if he'd been one of those rare gentle touches that had helped saved his mind, or one of those who'd tripped him and pinched him and smacked him and laughed when their Lady did nothing. The male gave another purposeful glance around them at all of the youkai around, all of the people who could hear them if they so wished. Then he held Toshiro's stare, his brown eyes intense and trying to communicate something the pup had no patience to decipher. Was the man going to tell Katsumi of his presence or not? Was he an ally, or was he someone Toshiro had to burn?
The market continued to bustle on around them, but whether this male was friend or foe. . . Toshiro's tour was over.
"I haven't seen you in forever, pup!" The burly youkai suddenly boomed, his smile a mile long and his eyes crinkling. Toshiro felt his youki spike and his ears try to surface from his hair reflexively at his outburst, but he kept them both down.
"What are you talking about?" He bit out in a whisper, stepping closer.
"Uncle Assad can hardly believe how much you've grown!" He said in the same cheery voice. "When's your family stopping by?"
Toshiro noticed that the inu male's voice was as lost in the clamor of the market and youkai around them as the next persons, that no one spared either of them a glance. The hanyou blinked and his demeanor changed; he leaned onto Assad's stall front, forced himself to smile easily, made his shoulders relax and limbs loosen. He recalled memories of training with his Shippou and Moeru to dredge up joy and excitement in his scent. Toshiro knew that he was not being asked about Katsumi when his family was mentioned.
"They'll be here soon, Uncle."
The male, Assad, gave him a thousand-watt smile, the bright orange of his cropped shirt matching his inu markings and striking against his skin. He looked kind, but Toshiro was aware of how deceiving looks could be. Who was to say that Assad and his kind smile would not report him, turn him in to Katsumi for some reward or praise or opportunity to serve his beloved fish at the keep again?
"Have a fish, young one. You look like ya need one."
Toshiro growled. "I don't want your damn—"
Before he could object further a trout was shoved into his hands, wrapped in leaves and smelling strongly of spices.
"Go on now, pup!" The male said merrily, shooing Toshiro with a hand. "Thank you for visiting your old Uncle, and tell your folks hello! I hope I'll be seein' ya soon!"
Toshiro blinked. Had he misunderstood? Did the male not know he was a hanyou, that hanyou, after all? He shook his head in confusion, relieved beyond belief as he quickly took off to continue his trek through the village. He was rather hungry, and so he unwrapped his fish and saw a piece of paper flutter to the ground as he went to take a bite.
He snatched up the little note, and found on it scrawled in hasty, messy writing; Many remember, and many more would fight. – Uncle A
He clenched his teeth and sent a spark of his youki out to burn the paper to ash the moment he finished reading it, checked this way and that to make sure he hadn't been seen. He continued on toward the ocean, excited at the prospect of putting his feet in the water. Would it be cold? Would the wet sand feel strange between his toes?
He took a bite of his fish, and was both unsurprised and pleased to find that it was absolutely delicious.
But no sooner than he'd swallowed that first bite, than that scrap of paper had blown away on a salt scented breeze, did large hands accost Toshiro from behind, restraining him. He dropped his fish and yelped, but before he could even think to call up his youki someone struck him upside the head with teeth rattling force.
His vision went black before he could even step foot on the beach.