Chapter Seventeen:

"Aren't you going to eat?"

Mitsukai opened her eyes to slits, yawned, and blinked at Souta sprawled in the overstuffed leather chair at her bedside. Her eyes flicked to the breakfast tray balanced haphazardly on the nightstand. Annoyance crept over her pale features as she rolled to her side, her back to him, and stared out the small bedroom window. Her view was partially obscured by pale peach curtains and a sheen of spectral gray frost clinging to the shadowed panes.

Outside the rain continued its downtrodden tumble, huge, frigid drops cascading from the dreary sky. The mid-morning sun subjugated by heavy burdened clouds and harsh, frozen wind. She shivered involuntarily, snuggling deeper into the sage quilt and peach linens covering her emaciated frame. Despite the warmth of the room, her extremities were frigid, her bones aching. And she was exhausted, more so, than she had been in weeks.

Souta began combing his fingers through her long hair, carefully working out its tangles. It was an absentminded gesture, reminiscent of an abandoned, but unforgotten, epoch. The time, in which Mitsukai was naïve, never questioned her origins and always smiled. Moments frozen in crystalline clarity cruelly replayed, mockingly, though their time had long passed. It was the age, in which Kagome, his sister, Mitsukai's mother, retained something of herself. Seventeen years of misery, of guilt, of self-loathing eroded, defiled her heart. Tender nobility lost in suffering and the degradation of the soul.

As he plaited Mitsukai hair, tucking stray strands behind her pointed ear, he forcibly pulled himself from poignant thoughts. He would not stand idle as Mitsukai tread her mother's path. A sigh, a stifled yawn, escaped the girl's slightly parted slips. She nuzzled the pillows, lulled to sleep by his soothing ministrations. He fixed his countenance into hard lines, though sympathy, if not indignation, bled from his eyes.

"So what? You mad at me too?"

Confused, Mitsukai's eyes drifted back open. Blinking she tilted her head backwards to peer into his dark eyes. "No."

Souta uttered a displeased, "hm," before working his fingers through the braid, loosening the careful plaits. He said nothing for a moment, but busied himself combing out her hair, spreading it against the pillows like a thick, silvery pelt.

"Could have fooled me."

Despite her exhaustion, her weakness, she pushed herself up on her elbows. As a wave of nausea washed over her, she cursed not only her continued illness, which seemed to ebb and flow in its severity, her own foolish squandering of strength. Last nights investigations cost her much, and earned her desperately little. She drew her knees up, circling her arms around her knees laying her cheek on her knees. Her expression was blank, her eyes cold, holding him in intense scrutiny. "You knew."

Her voice was calm, aloof, and though of a higher timbre, a near perfect imitation of her father's. Souta swallowed uncomfortably as he ran a nervous hand ran a hand through his hair. He leaned forward, his jaw balanced in his palm, and chewed thoughtfully on his knuckle. Exasperated he fell back into his chair and shook his head.

"Yeah I knew," he conceded. "I knew and I didn't tell you. Is that what you want to hear?"

Mitsukai shrugged, satisfied with the notion of having won this this particular battle, and returned her gaze to the window.

"Works for me."

A long heavy silence followed, one Souta found nigh unbearable. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, tucking one leg under himself, and sighed despondently. Then perhaps sensing his anxiety Mitsukai settled on her back, stretched cat like, quirking tiny a smile. "What are we studying today?"

"You want to study?" he repeated dully, rubbing his temples as if warding off an imagined headache.

"That's why you're here," Mitsukai shrugged, "Right?"

Souta frowned, indicating her education was not his reason for his visit. He came to talk, to visit, because he had promised. He always kept his promises especially, those made to her. Mitsukai was brilliant and more dedicated to her studies than the vast majority of his students. Cultivating that intelligence was one of his greatest joys. Regardless intellect is, at times, a greater curse than gift. For truly obtuse are oft oblivious to the struggles of mind and heart. There were many, many times in which he wished she were not half as bright as she was.

"Since I finished reading the Zeami Motokiyo you assigned last week-" her brows knit together and pursed her lips, as if she had just realized something of import. "Where is everyone?"

Souta paused unsure how to answer, the last instance in which she asked that particular question she escaped into the Tokyo night. That little jaunt caused her to relapse into her strange illness.

"Your mother and that Kouga guy went to get the rest of your things. And-"

Mitsukai's eyes sparkled with unshed tears, eyes wide so that were unable to carve tracks down her pallid cheeks. Frowning, he leaned forward to brush the silken strands from her temple. She shook her head, a solitary tear slid from the corner of her eye, streaking down her striped cheek. Souta wiped the tear away with a feathery brush of his fingertip. A tremor ran through her, shaking her thin shoulders, as the remains of her resolve faltered.

Without hesitation he climbed into bed beside her, gathering her into his arms. He held her, rubbing small useless circles on the small of her back, wincing at the unmistakable sensation of vertebrae beneath his fingertips. Her arms wrapped around him, clinging to him as if he were the last solid, sane thing in her world. And perhaps he was. His eyes stung with tears as he slowly rocked her. Until this moment he never realized the severity of his niece's illness. Outwardly she seemed well. Her lips were pink, her skin flawless porcelain, but underneath was sickness, decay, and death. The youthful, aching beauty of her visage seemed to mock her suffering.

"Talk to me," he coaxed, and though he endeavored to remain strong, his voice was strained.

Mitsukai sniffed, pulling herself out of Souta's embrace. She wiped her eyes on the heels of her hands while shaking her head. "It's nothing."

"The hell it's not!"

"Mama said not to curse around me," she reminded. Her voice was soft, hollow, sad, barely above a whisper. A knowing smile curled at her lips, her eyes slid shut, eyelashes creating a silvery lace against her pale cheeks. "Mama," she whispered mournfully so softly he had to strain to hear. "S-she hates me."

Souta sat in stunned silence, unbelieving, though understanding the reasoning behind her words. "Mitsukai," he began sternly, but then grew desperate. "Now, you know that's not true."

Mitsukai continued as if he had not spoken. "But it's okay." Her words ending with a bitter chuckle. "I hate her more"

"You don't mean that," he stated equivocally. "Why would you even think something like that?"

"Because-" she murmured, her voice thick with tears- "She doesn't want me anymore."

Outside, silent and undetected, Sesshoumaru stared at the bedroom door, his hand mere centimeters from the knob. His lips thinned in concentration as he listen his daughter's words.

"Your mother loves you," Souta reiterated. His tone was remained unwavering, certain to the validity of his words.

"Then why is she sending me away?"

Sorrow, abandonment and hopelessness were conveyed within every syllable she spoke. The heartbreak, the confusion, the deep and utter despair, at the prospect of losing the only parent she truly knew was evident. Sesshoumaru turned the knob slight, about to enter the room when he heard his name spoken.

"…he's the only one that can teach you," Souta attempted to explain, to pacify the girl. "to keep you from…"

"Killing someone else," Mitsukai finished snappishly.

Souta exhaled loudly, almost a groan of agitation. "Is that what you want to hear? That we're all scared of you? That we think you're some kind of monster? Well, it isn't going to happen. So you may as well…."

He stopped forcibly realizing he was practically screaming at her. Mitsukai said nothing, merely retreated into silence. She stared at him for a moment, the horror of her own reality filling her eyes. Her mother's abandonment reinforced the terrible, fallacious truth. Mitsukai rolled on her side starring listlessly, defeated, out the window. The day was warming into afternoon, the barest hint of sunshine breaking through the clouds, melting the frost from the panes.

"Mitsukai I-"

"Your phone is ringing."

Souta frowned in bafflement then jumped when the phone rang. One of these days he would ascertain the manner in which she always knew when his phone was about to ring. Quickly he glanced at the caller ID, then pressed a kiss to her moon marked brow. "I need to take this outside. But, we're going talk when I get back."

Mitsukai smiled faintly and nodded, her eyes driffting shut once more. Relucantly Souta rose from the bed and strode into the hallway, coming face to face with his niece's father.

"Hey," he greeted to which Sesshoumaru nodded scantly enough to be noticeable. Souta tucked the phone back into his pocket. He peered up at the ceiling, then into eyes nearly identical to those of his beloved niece. "She's isn't taking it well."

Sesshoumaru nodded slowly and leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. There were questions floating in his molten depths, but none in which he would give voice. Souta clicked off his cell phone, pinched the bridge of his nose and grimaced.

"You need to talk to her," he alleged, releasing his nose so that he may massage his temples. Sesshoumaru remained silent; though it was obvious he was interested in the other man's thoughts. Souta tilted his head back and closed his eyes, shaking his head. "She needs a friend, and she needs parents. And right now-" he looked sternly into Sesshoumaru's eyes, unwavering- "She has neither."

"What would you suggest?"

Souta yanked his phone from his pocket and continued down the hallway. Pausing, he turned on his heel, and started at the closed bedroom door. "I have no idea."

"Are you sure you don't mind Kouga-kun?" Kagome asked for the tenth time that hour.

"I don't want to be a bother."

Exasperation flowed briefly over Kouga's features, if he had minded he would not be at her family shrine on his single day off. Kagome smiled gratefully and offered him a pasteboard box in which to pack. The wolf youkai cocked a judicious glare at the box, and then flicked his eyes to Kagome.

"Never said I'd pack."

Kagome rolled her eyes in mock annoyance and groaned as she took back the offered box. Kouga plopped down on the narrow bed, smirking as his eyes flitting about the room.

"Your kid has a lot of stuff."

"Yeah," Kagome agreed softly. "A lot's missing though-" she paused, fear mixed with confusion colored her voice- "I don't" She shook her head softly in defeat. "When when my mother returns from Osaka I'll ask."

"Why not ask your kid?"

Kagome faltered looking nervously at her shoes. "She's angry with me."

Kouga snorted and his hands folded behind his head. " Seichi gets pissed at me all the time-"his voice dropped to sardonic tones-" Mostly because he's related to his mother." He smirked at Kagome's stifled giggle as he busied himself taping shut a box. "But it doesn't stop me from prying into what he thinks is his business."

"Your son is only eight, Mitsukai is sixteen," she retorted defensively.

Kouga raised his hands in appeasement as he rose. "Kagome, I didn't mean anything, really."

An apologetic smile curled at her lips as rolled her shoulders. "I know Kouga-kun. It's just….."

The wolf youkai nodded and gave her a sideways hug. "You do the best can, you always have. It's one of reasons I fell in love with you all those years ago."

"Kouga-kun."

He clasped her hand as he had so many years ago; his expression was sincere in its seriousness. "I can't pretend to know what you went through, what you're going through. But anything, anything at all, I'm here."

He shrugged, and then smiled wistfully hefting two boxes into his arms. He met Kagome's bewildered, blushing expression and held her gaze for an intense moment.

"You never forget your first love, even after your heart moves on."

It was not until the barest hint of stars appeared in gray sky, that Kagome had finally arrived back at Sesshoumaru's home. Boxes, bags, and the remainder of Mitsukai's clothing were secured into, what she learned was, Kagura's minivan. Kouga, Kagura married with a son and a minivan, the very notion was ludicrous in its normalcy. If there was a lesson to be learned here, Kagome could not fathom, other than their happiness seemed derived from the acceptance of fate. Happiness established through the refusal of all else.

Kagome followed the narrow cobblestone walk, her arms overloaded with odds and ends that found no place during packing. As she shifted the burden in her arms the front door opened and Sesshoumaru stepped into the chilly night air. Despite the cold, he wore only worn jeans riding low on his narrow hips. He took a step forward, his stomach muscles rippling as he moved. A sort of warmth filled her chest as her heart skipped a beat. And again, for the hundredth time she wished, she was capable of loving him.

Wordlessly he relieved her of her burden from her, holding it easily in one arm. He tilted his head down and ran his lips over her jaw before kissing her firmly on the mouth. Kagome fell against his bare chest, circling her arms around his waist in a loose hug. She laughed and shoved at him playfully.

"I missed you too."

Sesshoumaru smiled faintly, looping his free arm around her waist, pulling her close. Kagome absentmindedly ran her fingers through his soft hair before pulling away excitedly, reaching for the bundle still in his arms. "I brought you something."

Sesshoumaru raised a single brow as she procured a battered photo album from his arms. She fingered its spine gingerly, brushing imaginary dust from its floral printed cover. "I know it doesn't make up for the time you lost."

He brushed a kiss to her brow in silent gratitude. Appreciative for the opportunity to view is sole child from the moment she was born. Grabbing his hand she led him to the porch swing. Together they sat, curled together, his arms wrapped around her just under her breasts, as she slowly thumbed through the album. "She was so adorable."

Sesshoumaru nodded slowly, too transfixed on the album to speak. Images of a tiny Mitsukai with her dazzling smile and eyes that glimmered with insurmountable joy graced the vinyl-covered pages. Then inexplicably, the smiles faded, her eyes dimmed, and she withdrew. Peculiarly there were few pictures of his daughter passed the age of thirteen.

Tenderly Kagome stroked the curve of his jaw, the lines his high cheekbones. Those perfect, sculpted features he had passed on to their daughter. Kagome made a whimsical "hm," as she ran her thumb over his lips. Distracted at last, he turned his attention to the woman using him as a pillow. He raised a quizzical brow, a silent request for her to continue.

"I was wondering," she explained, a mischievous grin spreading across her features. Kagome giggled and squeezed him tight, burying her face in his chest. "If we had a boy would he have looked like me?

Sesshoumaru growled in playful annoyance, enticing a new burst of laughter. He smiled softly, and paused thoughtful at the implications of her words. "You want another child."

Kagome inhaled deeply snuggling deeper into his warm embrace. The night was frigid, a light drizzle misted softly in airy breeze.

"Someday….maybe," she answered wistfully. He could feel the truth in her words. "When my life is straightened out." She smiled faintly at Kouga as he continued to unloading the car. In a moment he would return her home. Kagome pressed her cheek to Sesshoumaru's chest listening to rhythmic beating of his heart. "But when…if.. that time comes-" her voice dropped to low meaningful tones. "I'd have him with you."

Surprise colored his features, as just as quickly disappeared, at her words. Lovingly his fingers traced her lips and down her chin. He slid his hands to her shoulders, down her back, stopping on either side of her waist. His lips found nibbled a path to jaw, she grasped his biceps as he sucked teasingly at her earlobe. "Stay."

It was not a command, but a single word invitation. If she had not known better, a plea. One she could not refuse, but knew she must. "I can't."

He remained impassive, as if she had not spoke. Slowly he nodded and released her, but not without brushing his lips against hers. Kagome's hands slid down to his wrists and squeezed his hand affectionately. "My mother will be home in the morning. And I need to let her know what's going on. After everything, she deserves more than a phone call. And Mitsukai needs to get used to the idea that she and I won't be living together. "

Sesshoumaru nodded, though not happily. Once more she proved to be an enigma. Something had changed between them though he was uncertain as to what.

Kagome's smile was brittle as she slowly rose from the swing. "Can I check on her before I go?"

Sesshoumaru motioned his consent, uncertain why she felt it was required. Her lips rosy and chapped from the cold mouthed a simple, "thank you," as she slipped into the house.