FROSTBITE I
Lust.
A damnable feeling any other time, but especially now.
Especially with Kagura, of all fucking people.
In hindsight, he should have known where it was all going when she'd so coyly asked him to go with her, but he'd been too caught up in his own ego, thinking that he still could inspire uncertainty or fear in her, that she'd be too insecure to make such a bold move.
He'd been wrong. And looking back on it, he should have known better. Kagura had always been the type to push boundaries.
She'd kissed him.
Such an insignificant action, such a simple little thing, and yet…
He was completely out of his element.
She'd kissed him.
And as many times as he tried to sort his own feelings on the matter, things just continued to get more complicated.
Four years ago, he had developed a sense of… responsibility. He hadn't liked Kagura. She was crass, impulsive, disrespectful, temperamental, and manipulative. She insulted him and didn't care for the consequences, something few, save his brother, dared to do.
But she had aided him, several times in fact, despite his denial of her request to save her. It was in her own interest to do so, but it didn't make the danger of what she was doing any less real. After his first outright denial, she hadn't asked him again, only pointed him in the right direction. He didn't take her help because he was going to kill Naraku for her, they simply had a mutual interest.
He had pitied her, he'd thought, pitied her situation and the fact that she was too weak to do anything about it herself.
And then she had died. He'd watched as she faded from existence, poisoned from her master's miasma, her body torn apart before his very eyes. But she smiled, he'd tried―Tenseiga hadn't worked. And that had been unacceptable.
Because she had smiled at him, as if she was grateful, happy, as if he had ever actually done anything to help her aside from a failed attempt with his sword. As if it wasn't partly his inaction that had killed her. He'd proven her right. He hadn't been strong enough to destroy Naraku then, and she'd been the one to pay for it. And in the weeks following, he'd attributed the ache in his chest to pity, to guilt, and to disbelief, even anger, at Tenseiga's failure.
Then that patchwork monstrosity Moryoumaru had opened his despicable mouth to insult her, and he had been unnaturally angry. Because how dare he―He broke that damned sword that had lead to their first meeting.
But he'd been rewarded, that failure Tenseiga was given a new ability. A killing Tenseiga, rather than a healing one. Too little, too late.
He couldn't help but curse his father and his tests. There had to be an easier way to achieve true strength than watching someone die.
He made a vow, if only to himself, he wouldn't avenge her, no, he didn't share enough compassion or care for that; but he would see her desire fulfilled, take the remnants of what had been her short life and insure that whatever aid she had given him did not go to waste. Her wants would be his. Her revenge would be his.
Naraku died, and that weight had been lifted, and then―
She had come back.
She had come back and thrown everything out of order
He'd carried the weight of her life for months, and then to have those crimson eyes looking at him again, without fear, without calculations, without manipulation, but with something else… maybe something like friendship―at the time he hadn't dared to think of anything more than that. But still, he'd pushed it away because Kagura was Kagura and she'd already died once for her freedom. Naraku was gone. That was the end of it. No reason for her to hang around or for him to care what became of her. No reason for him to question how that ache in his chest had burrowed itself so deeply that for the four years following, he hated the smell of a storm.
There had been the odd curiosity, now and then, of what she'd made of her freedom, but any time the thought would float through his head he'd diligently push it away, only for her to destroy every attempt simply by showing up where he'd least expected; bringing those memories and those feelings back to the forefront of his mind. At every turn, her tinkling laughter haunted him. When she danced he couldn't take his eyes away, her movements captivating and the elation at being free flowing through her bones. He saw her smile, wholehearted; in mirth, in amusement, in mischief, in glee. Her inky black hair peppered with snow, as the flakes melted on her cheeks and caused her to flush pink. Her eyes glinting in candlelight as she appraised him, teased and taunted him. Even in anger, in battle, she was fierce, the winds at her command, and he couldn't tear his eyes away.
She'd always been bold, and he'd let his own pride get the better of him, thinking that he could simply ignore it and it would go away, as so many other things in his life. But she'd been there, so close, with her scent invading his senses, clouding his judgement and bringing that desire bubbling to the surface. She'd been warm in his arms, he'd felt every curve and dip, the press of her weight against him when she inhaled, and her lips―he'd found himself wanting more, craving it, suddenly apathetic to the cavern of bones they stood in, so long as he could push her down amongst them―
But then that damn jingle had sounded in his ears, and torn between that and the delicious sound of her moan, he'd chosen to pull away, remembering why he'd sworn off any involvement with her in the first place.
He'd returned to solidify his claim to the title of General, to ensure that his strength and the power he'd attained would be respected, to show them all that he had in fact surpassed his father. And whatever Kagura had made of her life, of her travels, of her time spent with gods or in the keeps of youkai lords, he had no interest in being nothing more than a conquest, a way to pass the time, of her abusing the history they shared, or in getting involved with the ramifications of such affairs.
He knew desire, knew the ache envy could inspire.
And wanting no part of any of it, Sesshoumaru walked away.
…
Embarrassed didn't begin to cover it.
Ashamed would imply she'd done something wrong, and she refused to even entertain that notion.
It was more like…
Humiliated. Mortified. Completely and utterly demeaned.
Not the first time he'd had her feeling like that, but probably the worst out of the bunch.
His eyes avoided her now, passing over her as if she wasn't there. When she performed he was always conspicuously absent or enthralled―as much as was possible for him―in conversation with his mother or his uncle or that bitch Ginhime or whoever the hell was close enough so long as he didn't have to look at her.
She wanted to scream at him, do something, but she knew that it would be pointless, wasn't stupid enough to embarras herself anymore than she already had. Sesshoumaru was back to his old cold self; and she wasn't going to chase after a man who wasn't interested.
So, fine, she'd resolved to crush her little infatuation under her heel, and be done with it.
That hadn't meant that she was going to run away…
"You're grimacing again."
She was going to ignore that.
"If you want to leave, let's just go. I'm over the cold as it is." Achara had, unsurprisingly, gotten tired of Kagura's attitude within the first day.
"No, I'm staying another week," Kagura said, taking a long gulp from her bottle. She was nothing if not stubborn, and at this point she had a point to prove. She didn't care, his rejection hadn't bothered her. In fact, she was completely unperturbed. So unperturbed that she was going to subject herself to this nonsense until the end of the festival because she did not care. She had nothing to run from. She could deal with his pointed avoidance and his mother's stares, and the next time the little fox came sniffing around her a little too obviously she'd be sure to beat him bloody.
Achara groaned and rolled their eyes. "You're such an idiot."
Kagura hummed, taking another gulp and keeping her gaze on the center of the room. Some bitch was plucking at a koto and the music was hardly a distraction. These "feasts" were getting tiring.
"―Hey! She's not allowed to leave me!" Hotaru hissed, leaning over her shoulder, already drunk and red in the face. He punctuated his words with several solid pokes to her shoulder. Kagura shrugged him off and snatched the bottle he had in his grasp, the fox groaned, but let her take it without a fight before slinking back over to the man he'd been drinking with, giving Kagura final wink and putting his finger to his lips. She rolled her eyes.
At the very least Momiji had left her be for once, probably assuming that it was better to leave things well enough alone. The oni was still clinging to Gajou's arm, but knew better than to drag Kagura along as she usually did, a small consolation though it was definitely blood boiling everytime she glanced over to see them all circled around each other. It wasn't as if she'd enjoyed her time spent with them, but the laughter and muted conversation that tickled her ears made her teeth grind.
"I'm going outside." She needed fresh air, but her vision swam when she stood up too quickly. Achara following behind her with a sigh.
As if the wind had changed to match her moods, the last several nights had been frigidly cold, the weather having finally turned to a true blistering winter. Kagura breathed it in, the cold stinging her nose and biting at her cheeks, a welcome little distraction though it hardly affected her the same way it did the bird beside her. Achara was already wrapped up in their own wings, teeth chattering and desperately trying to blow the warmth back into their fingers.
"You didn't have to come with me."
"Being inside isn't much better, at least I don't have to listen to the bad music," they muttered, joining her along the narrow walkway that wound around the side of the building. Kagura didn't feel like stopping and at least walking would keep Achara a little warmer, and Kagura did as best she could to keep the air still as they went. As foolish as they surely looked, stomping along the veranda, it gave her something to do, a reason for her blood to move, each footstep something to think on rather than the constant stomach roiling humiliation that had taken root in her belly and refused to leave. It didn't help that her mind insisted on reminding her of that night any time she let it wander, bringing heat to her face and a grimace to her lips.
A gust not of her own making swept through them, bringing a chill strong enough to freeze even her bones, behind her Achara screeched into their feathers and Kagura did her best to temper it just enough to ease the chill. She turned, following the direction of the breeze, only to see a caravan coming through the gate, two carriages led by a dog in human form and three giant silver dogs flanking it. Quite the little spectacle, with the way the four legged dogs were presenting themselves, all high headed with their fur puffed. If she was stupid she might buy into the illusion that they were the ones to fear, but Kagura knew better than to underestimate the man heading them. Another silver haired dog, no moon on his forehead but a single red line running in the hollows of his cheekbones, golden eyed and with fur draped loosely around his shoulders.
Kagura sneered. The most irritating fucking thing about being here was that all the dogs looked the damn same, right down to their snooty attitudes, and whoever the hell this was wasn't any fucking different. She felt the disgust boiling in her belly, even more so when Ginhime materialized on the steps and ran out into the snow to greet him.
"Let's go back in."
Achara readily complied.
…
From the corner of his eye he watched her leave, watched her come back, the same tense set to her shoulders, and he resolutely ignored it. Comfort was not in his nature, and any attempt at doing so would be misconstrued, if need be he'd simply suffer through the uncomfortable itch at the back of his neck for the remainder of the festival and be done with it. It would be best for the both of them.
The oni still clung to his uncle's arm, which he supposed was out of his control, but he could still snap at her when she gave him a much too calculating stare. She may have been something of a friend to Kagura, but so far as he was concerned she had no business sticking her nose in his, and if she kept at it she was bound to lose it.
His mother's voice and Jaken's whining tickled his ear, but he cared little to decipher what it was they were saying, Ginhime had disappeared a few minutes ago―a reprieve for which he was grateful―and his uncle was laughing about something. The only one he marginally tolerated was Aporo, a dog older than his mother but with no human form and unable to speak any language that would get on his nerves.
A hush fell over the crowd, the silence piquing his ears, and when he looked up Ginhime was standing at the main entrance with a grin on her face―
"Oh, I was wondering when he would come," his mother tittered, "I suppose he's trying to take after how you used to be, fashionably late with a grand entrance."
―and her brother at her side. Kinjirou, a dog maybe less than a century younger than he, a cousin more closely related to his father than his mother. He'd still been a youth the last time they'd seen each other, but that had been some seven decades ago, he'd grown into a man in the time since, and even Sesshoumaru could begrudgingly admit their similarities, though he did wonder if that was by choice on Kinjirou's part. Sesshoumaru almost envied him for being bold enough to come so late, and wondered if he should have done the same.
"He did always look up to you, you know." Yes, and that may have been acceptable when he'd been a child, but Sesshoumaru raised his chin when the man's gaze fell on him and his eyes lit in something like anticipation.
They made their way through the scattered crowd, watched by dogs while the guests turned their attentions back to their conversations, unconcerned with the newcomer they had no reason to care for. And though Sesshoumaru tried not to notice, there was a vibrant set of ruby eyes watching Kinjirou's progress across the floor very closely. He stopped only a few feet beyond their small circle, greeting his mother and Gajou politely before turning his attention to Sesshoumaru.
"Well, isn't this an auspicious occasion?" Kinjirou grinned, a wide and self satisfied thing as he swung out his arm, gesturing at the group of them. "I had heard that you would be in attendance, cousin, but I almost hadn't believed it."
"Of course, Kinjirou," Sesshoumaru raised his chin and regarded him with the quirk of a brow, "I'm sure my presence was greatly missed at the last festival. I hope you still enjoyed yourself."
The corner of Kinjirou's mouth faltered, a miniscule little twitch that he recovered from in the blink of an eye.
"I'm sure this year will be even more eventful with you here, Sesshoumaru, and I for one am glad that you've decided to attend." He twirled a lock of his loose hair around a finger. "I'm sure you're here to finally make your claim as general?"
He hadn't sat down yet, and having to crane his neck and look up at him was making Sesshoumaru's hackles rise. Despite the music still playing, the crowd was most definitely quieter than it had been before Kinjirou's appearance. His mother and uncle were silent, eyes diverted to their hands or to the floor, waiting for the tension to pass and for Kinjirou to get whatever he was trying to get at over with. On the other hand, Ginhime looked positively chuffed, watching the scene unfold.
"It seems fitting, doesn't it? Unless you know of someone more capable?" Sesshoumaru drawled.
Kinjirou barked out a laugh. "Oh, I wouldn't dare! Even I've heard the stories by now, of how strong you've become. I suppose you take after your father in that way… I always admired him, you know."
Ah. There it was.
"I never did get to express my condolences to you," Kinjirou continued, "such a shame, what happened to him."
"Your sympathy is noted―"
"He was an impressive beast, to say the least, I'm sure we weren't the only ones disappointed at his passing," his mother chimed in, taking a sharp drag from her pipe, "I know you in particular, Kinjirou, admired him, didn't you?"
"I'm sure I wasn't the only one." Kinjirou's bright yellow eyes turned to his mother, the glint of a fang between his lips. "Which is why I was so thrilled to hear that his son was looking to take his place, and why―" he suddenly turned and snapped his fingers, "―I thought I would bring a little gift for you, a homecoming token, you could say…"
At the other end of the hall, a dog appeared, a great white face that solidified from the darkness. Almost too tall for the room meant for humanoid beings, he had to duck his head to clear the beams of the ceiling, which meant that the crate tied up with chains and dangling from his jaws dragged across the floor. It gouged deep rivets into the tatami, the deafening sound of the wound straw shredding finally silenced the entire crowd, all manner of heads turning to watch the spectacle.
"Kinjirou, you're making a mess of the floors," his mother chided, "this castle isn't so young anymore, you know..."
From the corner of his eye, and without intention, Sesshoumaru caught sight of Kagura, stood stock still against the far wall, a tight grip on the foreign bird at her side, and an expression he hadn't seen before―
The crate hit the floor with a thundering crack, the boards nearly splintering on impact, so beaten was the lumber, but as deafening as it had been it wasn't nearly loud enough to overpower the high pitched shriek that sounded from inside. Sesshoumaru inhaled, the crate had enough gaps to allow air to pass through, enough to let him pick up the scent.
"Kinjirou…" His mother's voice held the question Sesshoumaru wouldn't dare to acknowledge, but his cousin ignored it.
"I thought I should bring a little something to celebrate, I'm sure you understand."
Kinjirou gave the crate a heavy smack, and whatever charms had held it together broke apart, the sides of it falling away to reveal the cargo he'd already known was inside.
Children. Human children. One boy, one girl. The girl might have been an adolescent, the onset of womanhood clear on her face and form, but the boy looked to be nothing more than a toddler. Maybe once, they'd been plump little things, but by the skin hanging from their bones and the sallow look of their faces, they had been held captive for some time. The girl's long hair was matted down her back. Their once opulent robes were tattered and soiled as they clung to each other, shaking in terror at the sight of the youkai now licking their lips at the apparent meal. Tears rolled down the girl's cheeks, carving lines through the dirt that stained her face while she shielded the boy against her chest.
Several whoops and whistles echoed around them, hungry eyes and those looking for a spectacle. Sesshoumaru smoothed his face, ignoring the doleful gaze of the girl in favor of leveling as dull a stare as he could manage at his cousin. He opened his mouth to speak, but his mother's sharp tut! of disgust stopped him.
"Kinjirou." She covered her mouth with her sleeve. "They are diseased."
Kinjirou blinked, his face falling at the apparent reprimand, but he recovered quickly. "Ah, yes, well I've brought them from the south after all, they are prized children of the human's 'godly emperor,' they refused to eat on the journey, you see."
Gajou snorted and several amongst the crowd murmured their curiosity while Sesshoumaru found his voice.
"I would think you would take better care of your supposed token," he drawled. "You intended for us to eat them?"
The murmurs and excited whispers fizzled out, and while Kinjirou's smile never faded, his sister had begun to look worried, her eyes flickering between Sesshoumaru and his mother and a deep furrow forming between her brows.
"I honestly hadn't thought about it, but if that was your preference…"
The children's whimpering was grating on his ears, and the stink of unwashed human was almost dizzying, but of all of them the girl's eyes were firmly stuck on him, terrified, even as she attempted to shield the boy. She flinched when Gajou leaned forward, her attention ripped away for the briefest second as she trembled. Sesshoumaru sneered.
"How insulting."
Kinjirou's smile fell and the shock on his face would have been delightful under any other circumstance.
"Don't look so disappointed, boy! What did you expect, bringing them here looking like that? " Gajou laughed out loud, fangs poking over his lip as he grinned. "Hardly enough bone to pick my teeth with. I'll commend you for trying, though."
"Do get rid of them, Kinjirou." His mother still had her sleeve to her nose. "They stink like death as it is. You should know I have a sensitive stomach."
Kinjirou's brow furrowed, taken aback, but then he nodded slowly as if coming to a conclusion. He took a step back, and the children shrank away when he approached and stepped onto the remnants of the crate beside them. "Of course, right away."
Sesshoumaru ignored him, his gaze finding a pair of emerald green eyes peering at him from across the room. The boy was resourceful, if Kinjirou threw the children out into the snow, the fox would be the first to run looking for them, though Sesshoumaru had an inkling that Jaken would be not far behind.
"My apologies, I hope you all know I meant no offense." Kinjirou shook his head, woeful, and slapped a hand on both of their shoulders, eliciting a whimper from the girl as he gripped them tight. Sesshoumaru's hackles rose, but he stayed firm in his seat even as his cousin sighed―"Though it is unfortunate, but I should have known that our former general still held some influence here."
And with that, he raked his claws through their throats.
…
Don't worry, this is my last throwaway villain of the week for this fic, but i did have to chop this chapter in half because it was just getting out of control
