PARASELENE
Every movement was measured, controlled; a form of motion she'd inherited at birth, a gift from the predecessor she scorned. Maybe Shinatobe would have bristled under the gaze of so many youkai, would have scorned such a performance, sneered at the enamored stares of her audience… but those maybies, the prejudices and memories, remained locked away in the shard of glass that hung around her neck, and it was Kagura who thrived.
In a better mood than she'd had in days, she danced her way across the floor to the tune of Achara's flute, twirling her fan around and bringing a breeze beneath her sleeves, causing them to flutter in unison.
A smile pulled at her cheeks, it had only been three nights, but the movement was welcome, pulling at her well healed shoulder as she raised her arm. Beneath that satisfying stretch there was still the buzz of anticipation in her veins, a giddiness that had seeped in and stayed put ever since the afternoon. She had hardly put any thought into what had caused it, but couldn't help the flicker of something when she caught sight of a certain pair of golden eyes steadily watching her, following every movement.
It seemed that golden stare was something she'd have to get used to, as it didn't seem like he had any intention of stopping any time soon, whether he'd realized it or not. Of course she'd noticed, had been hard pressed not to, with the way he'd slunk around like a shadow while she'd searched for her fan in the rubble. She'd expected some snide comments, and of course he'd delivered on that, but they'd been relatively tame, so far as insults went, but she'd squashed the traitorous thought that the poor dog had missed her, in her two nights of absence. Certainly, she'd rejected the idea until he'd reached for her hand.
The cuts would heal in a matter of minutes, but he'd still looked unnerved; his hand had been warm, clawed fingers gentle against her skin as he'd cradled her wrist. Regardless of what had happened only nights before, having him touch her so casually was something she hadn't expected, and she'd felt her face heating, heart skipping a beat. Not that it hadn't been unwanted, but…
She'd pushed her luck a little. And when she'd wiped the ice from his face he hadn't even flinched, and it had taken maybe all of her willpower to keep from meeting the severe stare he'd been leveling at her, his gaze itching painfully on the side of his face until she'd made the unfortunate―or maybe not so, the knowledge might do her good later―discovery that even the most ornery dogs liked having their ears scratched. That much had made his pupils go wide, the breath still in his lungs, and she couldn't help but wonder how he'd react if she'd dared to do more. She felt no guilt for the deep seated feeling of satisfaction she'd gleaned from making the ever so controlled Sesshoumaru flinch, but she did wonder how much she could abuse the little trick before he'd start snapping.
She would ignore the small tickle of anticipation that licked up her spine when she caught his gaze again, her dance coming to an end, she'd be stupid to let it get the better of her.
Kagura counted her steps until Achara and the instruments stopped playing. She sank into a slight bow―she had noticed the way his face scrunched up in irritation whenever she bowed too deeply―and rose to her feet just as quickly, would have escaped back into the crowd of onlookers if not for the imp stepping into her path, looking haughty as ever for someone that only came to her knee.
"What do you want?"
His little beak crinkled into what she could only assume was a grimace, his arms folded into his sleeves, his muttered cursing nearly unintelligible over the din of conversation. "Rude woman! Follow me and don't ask questions!"
She gave Achara a glance over her shoulder and her friend shrugged; telling her to do whatever she wanted, the usual non committal response. As tightly wound as they were, they certainly had no problem watching Kagura make her own mistakes. Kagura shook her head and finally nodded at the imp to lead. He huffed and turned back, and from the corner of her eye she spotted the fox kit, looking up at her dolefully and sporting a sizable bump on the top of his head. The imp was nearly trampled and bowled over by the boisterous movements of one of the circles they passed, he screeched and Kagura resisted the urge to kick him out of her way, figuring that would be uncouth, and she still didn't know what the hell he'd been sent to fetch her for.
He led her to the head of the room, where Sesshoumaru and his mother sat, he nonchalantly reclined into his furs and she cuddled up close against the flank of a large silver dog, a blue moon emblazoned on its forehead. It would be nearly twice Kagura's height standing, but for the moment it seemed content to lay there, impassively watching her with red tinged eyes and its head cradled over crossed paws. His mother didn't share the dog's disregard, a small smirk on her red lips as Kagura approached, eyes following her with the interest of a predator while her son pointedly looked elsewhere. With a sinking realization, Kagura knew who had requested her.
"Sit." The order was accompanied by a dainty hand, gesturing to the empty space beside her, just out of reach of the dog's hind legs. Kagura angled her head in the semblance of a bow, figuring the formality might do her good as she gave one suspicious glance at Sesshoumaru, still willfully ignoring her. If not for Kagura's curiosity, she might have told the old bitch where exactly she could shove her demands, but she thought better of it and sank to the floor, keeping her posture rigid.
"I see you've recovered nicely from your injuries, how fortunate." If that was meant to be a dig at her, the old bitch had no one to snark at about it besides her own damn son. Kagura didn't take the bait, and simply levelled her with a patient smile which only earned a wider smirk from his mother.
Music began to play again, soft over the din of conversation, his mother began to pack her long pipe, using the curve of her claw to scoop and fill the bowl from the container on the table before her. Sesshoumaru had an untouched cup of sake cradled in his palm, idly watching the musician in the center of the room and looking the perfect picture of boredom. Across the hall, she spotted Momiji and his uncle making their way through the crowd, diverted when the oni spotted her with the mother-son duo. She tugged on his uncle's sleeve, pulling him in their direction, too nosy to leave well enough alone.
"Besides our previous encounter," his mother said, taking a deep inhale and practically blowing the smoke in her face when she spoke again, "I hear your history with my son is more than just a simple acquaintance."
Kagura bristled, the hand on her lap twirled, calling on a breeze to blow the smoke right back in the old bitch's face. She glanced at Sesshoumaru, whose expression had gone from purposefully bored to a barely contained tension, his eyes narrowed at nothing and his lips thinned into a line. Kagura let out a sigh as Momiji and his uncle slunk in beside her, aware of the tension but too nosy and not perceptive enough to sit elsewhere.
"I don't see how whatever he's told you matters now," Kagura finally said, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.
"Oh, don't be upset with him, my dearest son hardly tells me anything, I had to find out from someone else," his mother crooned, feigning insult as she cradled her face in her hands.
"...Someone else?"
Sesshoumaru finally turned to look at her, murder in his eyes as he snarled. "Myouga."
Kagura's brows raised high enough to create deep lines on her forward. His mother just tittered, leaning further into the giant dog's side and there was the sound of someone clearing their throat, but Kagura couldn't find the source―
"My apologies, Miss Kagura, we've never been formally introduced." She looked down, finally noticed the tiny speck of what she'd thought had been dirt smearing the floor in front of his mother's knees. "My name is Myouga, I served Sesshoumaru-sama's father, and have continued to faithfully serve his lineage." Kagura glanced up at movement in the corner of her eye, catching sight of the fox kit's bright green eyes peering around someone's shoulder. Ah. "I was witness to many of your exploits."
"Yes, he positively regaled me with the tale," his mother hummed, and Kagura couldn't help but thinking she looked like the cat who ate the cream, despite the difference in species. She wondered if that would be an insult. "Unfortunately, it seems Myouga's story is missing some detail. I am curious how the two of you came to know each other so well when my son sought to kill your master."
"Former master," Kagura hissed, the back of her neck going hot. In her peripheral vision she spotted Momiji's hand sliding towards her thigh, Kagura swatted it away with the flat of her fan. She'd done well to keep the oni out of her business, but it seemed she'd taken the chance by coming here and was losing the gamble. "I understand your grudge for what happened between the two of us, but you've nothing to worry about your son, he and I were never enemies."
"Is that so?" His mother hummed, spewing smoke again. Behind her, the giant dog snorted, irritated by the cloud hanging in the air. "Shouyoukai?"
From behind Sesshoumaru's fur the imp's head popped into view, wringing his hands together and looking sheepish, his mother inhaled, but before she could get the words out Sesshoumaru was growling low in his throat.
"Jaken, go fetch more drink."
Faced with his master or the Lady Mother, the imp chose the former, and quickly scurried off to do as he'd been bid, just in time for the flat of Sesshoumaru's fist to come down sharply on the spot the flea had been only a moment ago. The dog raised its head, curious, and Kagura wondered what the hell had happened to piss him off so badly. Maybe he was still bitter from earlier, the welt on that boy's head had been fairly large―
"I did not come here for you to go digging up the past, mother," he drawled as he turned away, his face returning to its typical impassive smoothness. "What's dead is dead."
"I suppose it is, isn't it? I'll be sure to remember that." His mother tsked and took a long drag from her pipe, considering her son with thinly veiled annoyance. Sesshoumaru glanced at her from the corner of his eye, but then she just exhaled, a long sigh that left more thick gray smoke hanging around her head. His mother turned her attention back to the center of the room, ignoring Kagura's presence entirely, mother and son an unsettling set of near mirror images of forced apathy.
Beside her, Momiji kept still, more than likely calculating how to ease the obvious tension, to turn the dead conversation to something she could control, but as her companion and much more accustomed to their prickly attitudes, Gajou simply let out a laugh.
"It's refreshing to see that some things never change," he said congenially, and Momiji was quick to leap and fill his cup, now that the tension had broken, "you've gotten wiser with age, nephew, but you're still nothing but a willful brat around your mother."
The Lady raised her cup in affirmation but Sesshoumaru merely glared at his uncle from the corner of his eye.
Kagura rolled her eyes. She'd done her part, met with the bitch to assuage whatever vindication she still sought, if his mother was just going to snark at her rather than simply clawing her eyes out then Kagura had no interest in sitting there to listen to it or watching the woman preen her furs while smoking that damned pipe and blowing smoke in her face. She leaned back, the muscles of her legs flexing―
"Well, if that's all, then…"
"Wait."
Kagura grit her teeth.
"We were having a pleasant conversation, stay won't you?" The Lady Mother's smile might have been disarming to anyone else, but Kagura knew enough of the family to be suspicious of it. Slowly, she relaxed back onto her knees, giving the son another wary glance that he did not return.
"I'd hardly call it pleasant," she finally said. His mother's lip twitched, the slightest upward turn that was little comfort.
"Oh, don't be so cold, I'm over it," she said with a long exhale of smoke and a wave of her hand. "The smell of your blood from your little stunt the other night did well enough to appease me, for now."
Hardly any consolation, Kagura thought, getting the distinct impression that his mother could hold a grudge for a millenia if she wanted. She kept her mouth shut, sealed into a thin line, whatever the status of her relationship with her son―antagonistic or friendly or apathetic―Kagura knew that his mother would continue being a thorn in her side so long as they both resided in the same castle. A chance she'd been willing to take, but still, she found it all the more annoying now that she'd sat beside her.
"Oni," his mother started, tapping out the burnt ashes of her pipe into a bowl, "you were at the last festival, weren't you? I remember those fangs."
Momiji, jumping at the chance to talk about herself, brightened. "Yes, I had the pleasure, I'm flattered you remembered."
The Lady seemed unimpressed with the platitudes and relit her pipe before she angled it in Kagura's direction. "When did this one join you?"
Momiji wilted under the question. "About three―"
"If you want to know somethin' you can ask me," Kagura scoffed. Insulted, anger thrummed in her veins. She caught Sesshoumaru's gaze, and wondered, if she went to slap his mother, get the pleasantries over with, would he intervene? Or would he just watch the old bitch try to tear her arm off?
"I could," she said, "but I preferred to hear it from her."
Behind Sesshoumaru's fur, the little imp returned, brandishing a bottle with glee only to be shooed away again by a furious glare from his master. Across the room a fight broke out, all vicious snarling and broken glass as the participants lunged at each other, trampling tables and anyone else between them. The dog raised its head, watching the commotion, but quickly lost interest once the brawl moved into the yard, shouting and the whoops of spectators echoing around the hall. Neither mother nor son seemed to care for the spectacle, though his uncle did lean his head in that direction. Kagura steadfastly kept her attention elsewhere, wondering how much she could say without starting a fight herself. She'd just started to enjoy her time here―
"Mother," Sesshoumaru said, interrupting her thoughts, swirling his cup and looking out past the light into the yard, "if you invited her to join us just to pick a scab I'd prefer you do it without my attendance."
There was a pause, mother staring at son with what looked like barely contained disdain, Kagura had the distinct impression that this might not be a conversation for mixed company, but then his mother sighed and pursed her lips in a pout.
"You're just like your father, terrible sense of humor," she huffed, leaning back further into the dog's fur, giving its flank a light pat, "don't you think so, Aporo?"
The dog snorted loudly. Sesshoumaru rolled his eyes. His uncle hid a chuckle behind a sip from his cup. Kagura wanted to tear her hair out.
"Tell me then, of your travels on the continent, I'm sure they're worthwhile and I'm in need of a good tale."
His mother wasn't looking at her, she just sat, silently puffing on her pipe and watching the participants of the previous fight drag themselves across the floor, trailing blood spatters in their wake. She'd sounded sincere enough to give Kagura pause, wondering what the new game was.
"I'm afraid I wouldn't know where to start, so many of them are free of bloodshed, I don't know if they'd be to your taste."
"I will say I enjoy a tale of a battle as much as anyone, but I've grown to find there is much more sophistication in intrigue than war. Blood all begins to run together, in the end." She sighed, huffing another heavy cloud of smoke, leaving Kagura to wonder if that was meant as consolation or advice. "Those earrings, for example, they're from the north, aren't they? I'm sure you have some stories of such a dreadful place."
Kagura froze, her hand instinctively going up to finger the brass hoop strung through her lobe, the jade bead dangled against her palm and she gave his mother a look.
"I hardly found it to be dreadful," she finally managed, and before she could say anything else Momiji was already spouting off.
"Kagura likes to be coy, but those were a gift from the bear king," she tittered, probably thinking she was being helpful. "He was absolutely smitten, courted her from the minute we arrived to the minute we left, said he'd wait forever―" It took more than a look to get her to shut up, but a painful pinch to her side had the oni biting her tongue and sneering.
"The bear king? You mean Isonashi?" The lady drawled, taking another drag of her pipe. Kagura snapped her head back to look at her, but before she got the chance her gaze was caught by a different pair of simmering golden eyes. What the hell was he so upset about? "I can't imagine you'd be here if you'd taken him up on his offer, those brutes are quite stubborn in their ways and no friends of ours. What reason did you have to break the poor bear's heart?"
Kagura grimaced. She hadn't broken anything, the poor bastard was still holding a torch for her back in his iced over den, and while she had recognized the merit of the warmth and safety he'd offered her, the longer she'd sat in the darkness, the smell of smoke clogging her lungs, the air stagnant and rotten, the more irritated she'd gotten.
"I ain't interested in bein' locked away in some damp and dingy cave for the rest of my life."
"Yet you kept his trinkets."
Kagura gave her a sardonic smile. "I ain't the type to turn down gifts either."
His mother smiled, looking the most pleased Kagura had ever seen her, a glimmer in her eye, but the old bitch didn't say anything else, a silence that made Kagura's ears burn. Across from her, Sesshoumaru was watching the performance at the center of the room with a glazed over look, his mouth a thin line, and she almost took comfort in the familiar expression. Still, she couldn't help but sneer into her cup, knowing that while Momiji had meant well―to flaunt the fact that one of her own had such powerful admirers, a prideful thing―she still didn't know when to keep her mouth shut. Kagura had been doing very well not to think of the bear, or his offers, or the fact that she hadn't outright told him no―
"Oba-sama?"
Kagura's ears piqued at the sound of the voice, a woman, a white haired young dog, pale faced with sunflower yellow eyes and swirling peach stripes in the hollow of her cheekbones, her cheeks dusted with pink from the cold. Even with the sleeve covering her face, the self satisfied smirk was evident in her eyes.
"I'd just arrived and wanted to come see you first." She knelt down to join them before his mother had even acknowledged her presence. "And Sesshoumaru, it has been a long time. It's so good to see you."
He acknowledged her with nothing more than a nod. Kagura buried her nose in a cup of sake, the smell of it stung, but she was too preoccupied watching the bizarre spectacle to pay it any mind.
"You've changed, haven't you?"
And then, Kagura had to bite her tongue, nearly choking on her own shock as the bitch leaned forward and plucked a lock of hair off his shoulder.
There was a pause, as she twirled his hair between her fingers, an sharp inhale from all who'd seen the breach of space, and judging by the look on Sesshoumaru's face even he'd been struck a little dumb. His eyes widened by a hair, slowly turning his gaze to her hand, then to her face where she just continued to watch him, smiling prettily behind the fabric of her sleeve, yellow eyes crinkling with mirth. He inhaled, slowly, deliberately, his lips pulled away from his teeth, and he snarled. A vicious, savage thing, all fangs and fury.
The hair on the back of Kagura's neck rose, gooseflesh pebbling her skin at the sound and the oppressive pressure of jyaki that accompanied it. At her side, Momiji yipped, but the other dogs seemed unaffected, watching the scene with tempered boredom. Finally, the woman dropped her hand and stifled another giggle behind her sleeve.
"Hn, seems I was wrong, maybe not so much."
"You'll have to do better than that, Ginhime," his mother drawled once Sesshoumaru had closed his mouth. The woman nodded her head in assent.
"Forgive me, I only wanted to be sure."
Kagura didn't know if the apology was meant for him or his mother, but Sesshoumaru tore his rageful glare away from the woman, and briefly met Kagura's gaze before sliding his eyes off to the distance, still looking annoyed but at least not as furious as he'd sounded. No one commented on the exchange, so Kagura kept her mouth shut, feeling like she was severely missing something.
His mother sighed, loudly, and struck her pipe against the bowl with a clack.
"As pleasurable as it's been here with all of you," she said, sounding altogether insincere. She smoothed her robes and fur, then got to her feet. "Ginhime, attend me."
The woman smiled with her eyes, her gaze lingering on Sesshoumaru, and then with a small bow, stood and followed his mother out of the hall, a haughty swing in her step. Everyone except Sesshoumaru watched them go in silence. A question lingered on Kagura's tongue, she only needed to give it the breath to ask, but before she could he'd already stood and practically stomped his way out of the hall in the opposite direction of his mother and the other dog.
"What was that about?" Kagura finally managed to ask.
"Better not to ask," Gajou said, chuckling into his cup. "Just youth."
Kagura quirked a brow, and went to get up, if not for Momiji's fingers working their way into her sleeve. Kagura turned back and narrowed her eyes.
"I have some questions," Momiji hissed, but Kagura just shook her off with a wave.
The giant dog propped its head up and gave her a look as she passed, Kagura paid it as much mind as Momiji's indignant hissing and Gajou's laughing. She knew when to mind her business, when it was prudent to keep her nose out of things, but there were also times that a little nudge was worth the risk. Maybe Momiji had really worn off on her, after all these years. Besides, there was still a residual chill tingling its way up her spine from his snarl, and she couldn't shake the memory of the glare he'd thrown her way. It only took a minute to find him in the winding corridors, as if he hadn't even bothered to try to conceal his escape.
He had to know that she followed, she didn't bother covering her footsteps, but still he continued, ignoring her and leaving her wondering what the hell the bitch had done to piss him off so bad. Touching him was one thing, but that growl had been nothing but rage. She cleared her throat, choosing a balm to smooth her prodding:
"So is that gonna' happen every time I'm within spitting distance of your mother?"
He stopped, finally, and quirked his head to the side, as if thinking for a long minute, but then he turned, looking out over the yard instead of at her.
"You shouldn't let her goad you so, it seems she's developed a penchant for playing with her food."
"Oh? Your mother intends to eat me?" she mocked. "And what about you?"
He had no answer for that, but he did turned to her fully, his eyes darkened, narrowed and hidden beneath the shadow of his bangs. She stifled a chuckle, hiding it in the curve of her fist as she shook her head at him. He looked so different, away from all the commotion and amidst a backdrop of stars. Wound as tight as he was, he wasn't suited for indoors, walls too confining for the feral thing he was underneath the gloss of aristocracy, human trapings a mere costume. She could see it in his eyes, the predatory gleam as he watched her; if she were anyone else that stare might threaten to send her screaming, but instead of an icy trickle of fear, it was something much warmer that suddenly flooded her veins.
A lock of silver hair hung over his shoulder, almost golden in the light filtering through the paper screens and her arm moved before she could squash the urge, feeling like she had something to prove. Curious, but careful not to linger, she reached out and moved it away, the back of her knuckles skimming across his shoulder. Years ago, she remembered, she'd done the same, but now she kept her gaze averted from his, waiting for a reaction, any reaction, because the circumstances had been much, much different then…
Nothing happened.
There was no snarl or sneer on his face, he was quiet, following the motion of her hand with his eyes, a curious sort of look on his face that she wasn't sure how to read. She could feel the heat radiating off of him, off the pelt on his shoulder, so much warmer than her own frigid skin that she hadn't noticed she'd leaned forward until he straightened his neck, a furrow marring his brow―
"Kagura!"
She jumped at the sound of Momiji's voice. Sesshoumaru took a step back, looking annoyed.
"Don't you dare go anywhere! You have some answering to do!"
Kagura peered around her shoulder, saw Momiji briskly walking towards them, eyes blazing and hair curling around her head. Kagura groaned, she turned back to him, but he'd already sidestepped her, wanting nothing to do with the oni. His sleeve brushed her side, but Momiji was already on her, in her face and demanding attention, her apparent humiliation blinding her to everything else as Sesshoumaru left them standing there, a lull in the oni's rant as she paused to take a breath the only reason Kagura caught the sound of his voice:
"I haven't decided yet."
Between Momiji's screeching in her ear and the gruff protests running off her tongue, she didn't have the time or presence of mind to ask what the hell he meant.
…
Kagura had boo thang in the yet to be written continuation of Born Free. Will it ever be published? Idk i just work here
Next time: Shippou commits minor crimes and Sesshoumaru goes on a date? Hmmm, not sure, instructions unclear
