An: Hey, everyone! ^_^ I finally got this chapter out! I don't know if it is one of my best, but the plot certainly moves along, and I suppose that is always a good thing. And guess who FINNALLY arrives? You will have to find out to read. Two of our favorite characters, both crazy and hated women! Could you guess? Aw, shucks, you will have to read. I hope you guys enjoy it, and tell you friends! *flies away*
Read and review, onegai shimasu!
Shadows Against a Shoji Screen
Shifting Towards the Attainable
Sighing in frustration and annoyance, Lord Inuyasha huffed angrily through the room, his expression one of discontentment and agitation. His movement reeked of a pent strength, his eyes darted about the room as though they desired to be far far away from the compounds he was situated in.
Casting a moody side-glance towards his baggage, waiting patiently in the corner, he exhaled a deep amount of breath and groaned.
He did not want to be here.
His thoughts drifted elsewhere, slowly traveling back in time to that point where he had met Naraku and learned of the tragic state of affairs with his wife and most hated brother. Inuyasha, looking back on it now, was disgusted at his behavior. Naraku had played him for the fool, had milked him so dry of all his emotions that now there was nothing left but a hallow parched sort of feeling that grew painfully acute at night.
What had he wished to see, Inuyasha wondered as he continued to pace the room in frustration. Moreover, how did he know that the device that Naraku seemed to treasure so tenderly was accurate in it is reading? Was it true that at this moment Kagome, his wife, was quietly sipping tea aside his brother that continued to cause him pain. No doubt, Sesshoumaru would betray the young and innocent girl, just as he had betrayed himself to Inuyasha that summer so many years ago.
Would he inflict upon Kagome the same vengeance he had sought for Kikyou?
It was this that turned his boiled blood icy cold.
In truth, Inuyasha had not expected the physical and mental emotions that would plague him after he first witnessed the scene of his wife, Kagome, standing next to the foulest youkai to ever crawl the earth. It astounded him, and baffled him at the same time, that this mere girl could arouse such a mysterious emotion in his being that nearly all other thoughts seemed to vanish.
Nearly.
This would only hasten his call to arms, and this would only cause more enjoyment and pleasure as Sesshoumaru finally fell by his sword. How much he would treasure that day when Kagome would return to him, a dull piece of glass compared to his lost love, but nevertheless, his dull piece of glass. And most enjoyably the blood of Sesshoumaru's dying figure would trickle down the mountainside into his lands…never to leave for as long as time. Even in the afterlife, the youkai would be tortured by the truth that he had fallen to him, Inuyasha, his half brother, and a hanyou at that.
"Inuyasha-sama," a voice behind him greeted smoothly.
"Ah, Yusatsu-sama," Inuyasha fumbled, slightly off guard as he had been too deep in his thoughts to notice much else.
"I have come to wish you farewell." The thin willowy man proclaimed, bowing low, a few wisps of silver colored hair escaping his ornate headdress.
"Thank you, Yusatsu-sama," he replied in turn.
"May the road back to your prefecture be filled with the delights of the season," the prophetic man hoped as he presented Inuyasha a wrapped bundle of some sort containing the customary gift.
"Thank you Yusatsu-sama," Inuyasha repeated, extending his arms to receive the bundle. Adding as an afterthought, "I deeply grateful for your alliance…it is one of my greatest."
Yusatsu said nothing, his dark mysterious eyes glancing up and down the figure of Inuyasha as though judging his character, as though seeing how much strength this hanyou possessed.
Bowing once again, extremely low this time, Inuyasha gave a farewell greeting and made his way towards the courtyard.
Standing amongst the waving pine trees that surrounded the mansion, Inuyasha thought absently of his journey.
Yusatsu had been the last lord that he was to visit. Now, two paths slowly emerged before him out of the fog, each path entrancing in its own way. Yet, already Inuyasha had an inking of where his destiny was to lie.
Perhaps, Inuyasha thought idly as he watched the servants load his horse, Miroku had been correct in assuming that Naraku was dangerous. Inuyasha was painfully aware of the powers that the being had—yet…Naraku seemed content to join along side him, a move that Inuyasha would have never expected. If Miroku had known of these changed circumstances then certainly his consent could and would have been obtained.
Waving a farewell to the remaining servants who had helped him in all ways possible during the last week, Inuyasha kicked the sides of the gray horse and sped off down the pathway towards the main thoroughfare.
The fact remained, Inuyasha told himself, that Naraku would allow him to quickly penetrate his brother's land, where, if all went according to plan, he could rescue Kagome from Sesshoumaru.
And more importantly, avenge Kikyou's death.
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"What do you mean…?" Sango questioned wearily as she eyed the stranger from across the open flame. His face was hidden in the shadows of the blaze, flickering every few second, its appearance making false expressions. At times, she felt his eyes upon her, yet when she looked up, they were not there…
"I mean that…this whole situation may be deeper than we all believed." The man in turn replied, taking from out of the glow his gutted and browned fish. Touching it, he let out a slight curse and Sango could not help but laugh, "Something right out of the fire is hot, you know."
"Well, yes, I suppose it is," the stranger grumbled playfully as he propped the stick with fish still attached against the moist log.
"Listen," Sango cut in suddenly, glaring intently at the stranger, "Who are you? Why did you attack me?"
The man grimaced, as though the thought bought him either great pleasure or great pain. Sango could not quite deceiver which emotion it consisted of.
"Would you wish the truth?" The man whispered hoarsely, his figure bent over as he tossed another dry log into the fire.
"Is it so hard to give, the truth?" Sango questioned sternly, deep eyes gazing at the mysterious stranger in a brutal way, allowing all her sorrow and strength to surround her in a sudden beautiful force field. Never before had a man touched her in this way; minutes melted away, and she found that she was staring.
"No, the truth is easy to say. The reaction, well…" the man chuckled, touching his cool fish, and bringing it to his lips.
"My reaction will be stoic. There are few things that frighten me, you must understand that." Sango admitted, wrapping her arms about her exposed skin.
From far away within the dark depths of the forest an animal howled, and a bird called out for its mate. Above, the moon passed over a wispy cloud making the world seem soft in all its edges. The figure before her turned gentle, no longer the worn man exhausted by his travels. No longer the man who attacked her in the dark; no longer a potential enemy. This man was just a man, a being, and one who sat hunched before her.
"My name is Miroku," the man began as he untied his hair and ran a hand through its strands.
Sango repeated the name softly, for it sounded strangely familiar in its uniqueness.
"I am an advisor and friend to your lord, which I presume is Inuyasha. I do have my bearings, correct? This is the Shizuoka prefecture if I am not mistaken…" he mumbled absently to himself, a grin hinted on the edge of his open lips, revealing a handsome smile.
"Yes, this is the Shizuoka prefecture." Was all Sango could find to answer. What more was there to say? This man, Miroku, was in charge of the conversation.
"I have come, though it seems too late, to find Kagome and return with her to Sapporo." He paused and ate a piece of fish, "But so it would seem the journey took me longer than I expected, and it also seems that Kagome has disappeared."
"That is true." Sango admitted, her form stiffening, her eyes misty in the firelight.
"My presumption is that it was Naraku who took her, not Sesshoumaru, although this area is easily accessible to any possible attacks or, as it would seem, kidnappings he has in mind." Miroku admitted as he tied his hair in a tight ponytail.
His dark eyes for the first time since the conversation had begun, deigned to look upon Sango, as though noticing her curves and voluptuous body for the first time.
"And who might you be, who sits there looking so prettily at me?" He quipped, finishing his fish, though his eyes remained active on the female figure presented before him.
"I-I am Sango," she managed to stutter terribly, thankful that it was somewhat dark and he could not see the flush slowly crawling across her face.
"And how did you come about meeting my fair Kagome?" Miroku questioned amusedly.
"I wrote her a letter, well…my late father did, and she arrived too late to help. Instead she stayed and had plans to bring peace to the two nations—"
"Three nations." Miroku corrected.
"Three?"
"Inuyasha is at was with Sesshoumaru, Sesshoumaru is at war with Inuyasha, yet because it seems so black and white as it does now, realize that Naraku, the lord who inflicted such pain upon you, will get his revenge. At all costs. A massacre will begin on his command, a silent deadly massacre which the world will only hear about till after the death of countless victims." Miroku whispered stealthily, his quiet eyes raging with an unseen yet heard storm.
"You believe that Naraku will try such a thing?" Sango whispered quietly, a shiver rushing up her spine.
"Sango…you must understand…we are all fools on parade."
Gazing up at the cloud cover that covered the moon, Sango suddenly felt very alone.
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"How beautiful…" Naraku whispered quietly, his eyes flashing with gold and silver as he gazed down at one of his most precious of treasures. What now lay before him would be the catalyst to change all the futures of those involved in his tragedy. By this object, Inuyasha would ally himself with him, Naraku, to the death. With this object, there would be no questioning in Inuyasha's heart—once Naraku obtained what he desired. Until that time, he would relish watching Inuyasha stumble through a state of living hell. He would slowly taste each flavor of Inuyasha's sorrow, of his hatred, of his blind anger that would kill all those who became involved.
Sesshoumaru would die by Inuyasha's rage, Kagome by his side, Miroku…Sango…Rin…all would perish, and the world would forget them slowly, slowly. For after all, no matter how much human damage was inflicted on it, the world would recover. The earth was so much stronger than all: humans, youkai…even Naraku would only be a memory, his life fleeting…only a grain of sand amongst a beach.
Yet, perhaps by divine providence, or maybe something as foolish as luck, Naraku had been spared from a destiny similar to that all others lives. Lightening had stuck his sandy grain, and now he returned a beautiful piece of glass…
Glancing to his right, where a haggard old woman sat patiently waiting; her large bulging eyes gazing down at the object. A transparent watery eye turned in Naraku's direction; its expression a mixture between anger and admiration towards the lord.
"Why do you wish this done, Naraku?" the woman spat bitterly, her mouth opening to reveal a gaping hole.
"Why do you inquire?" Naraku chuckled, noticing that the body of clay and mud had been created very life like. Noticing with great pleasure that the figure's breasts were large and expertly detailed, almost as much as the once beautiful face, he bent down and kissed them tenderly.
"I inquire," the being hacked slightly, trying not to watch the spectacle in front of her, "Because if it had not been for you I would have completed this task for my own doing long ago."
Leaning over of the nude clay figure, he kissed her lips tenderly, and slowly continued the journey down the body until he arrived at an area that provided a gasp, even from the old and jaded witch.
Glancing up, his eyes glazed over, his dark hair tumbling over the deliciously naked form, he whispered, "Urasue, You must understand…if it hadn't been for me, much would have been accomplished in this world."
The old haggard woman, Urasue as they called her, gazed at him in a look of disgust, her jowls quivering, "This girl was mine. I was the one who dug up her bones, who found the spell—it was me."
Chuckling, Naraku ran his hands along the molded female form, "Yes, yes, Urasue, that is all well and good…yet, there are those who are hunted and those who hunt. I myself am the later…and you…well…I believe you know that you have already been caught."
Urase's expression darkened in disgust, "You…" she breathed in her foul breath. "You are…"
Continuing to fondle the clay statue, Naraku murmured dangerously, "Get on with it, Urasue, you try my patience. Something I could not recommend."
The woman's watery eyes glazed over in anger and fear for the many lives that would soon be tormented by this man's actions. His face turned to her now, his expression dangerous in its beauty. His lips turned down in a frown, and he whispered, "Urasue…"
Coughing slightly, Urasue began the process that would bring this once dead person back to life. The one person who was the key to the war, the person who could have so long ago put an end to it all. Yet, now…now…there was no such hope….
"Yes, Naraku." The withered and wrinkled form whispered quietly, her expression fuming.
"Wise decision."
His words whispered on the wing, telling the tarot cards of all to come…
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The flames leapt about the clay figure of the molded woman. The smell of drying earth filled the air, whispering of the future. The expression, if the figure had one, was that of deep sorrow…and yet it could not move. Its bare shape lay quietly against the earth as the inferno danced sadistically about her.
"Is this all there is?" Naraku quietly whispered to himself as he walked about the smoldering bonfire, the sparks jumping higher and higher into the afternoon sky.
"No," Urasue whispered quietly, sitting quietly on the ground, "We must wait until the flames die down and she is finished baking."
Intrigued by the demon witch, Naraku leaned against the tree and allowed himself to drown in the comforting flames.
"Do you have the souls ready?" Urasue asked a few moments later.
"Yes…although a bit of Kagome's will be required, I presume?" He quipped in turn, mocking her slightly.
"Don't be insolent, you power hungry youkai—"
"Thank you."
"Have you the incense ready as well?" She continued irritably, grumbling at him in an elderly way.
"All that is required is the match." Naraku smirked quietly to himself as he extended his hand, and almost instantly a surge of fire emitted forth in a small and forceful wave. Chuckling to himself, he closed his eyes allowed his mind to filter, like the light between the leaves, to other far off and distant places.
"Very well…"
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Gently knocking against the mahogany paneling that bordered the shoji screens to Sesshoumaru's study, she opened the screen a quarter of an inch and peered intently into his room. Gasping in surprise as she met Sesshoumaru's eyes, she stumbled back against the hall wall.
"Did I disturb you?" she tried to question gently, unsure of the youkai's mood today.
"Yes," the youkai began coldly. Pausing, she heard him exhale a deep amount of breath, as though he was about to regret what came next. When he spoke next, his words were carefully chosen, the tone unsure, "But this is not to say that the interruption comes as unwelcome."
Shaking her head, Kagome smiled against her will as she entered into Sesshoumaru's most private domain of the whole quarter. Even as she entered, Kagome knew that to be permitted in this room was one of the greatest honors a human being could be expected to receive. Only those who he truly trusted and respected would be allowed into such a personal space.
This room, Kagome knew, was the one unguarded door to the youkai's past and present. All that was within the boxlike area was all he would offer, all he would present…and all she could expect.
"Hurry," Sesshoumaru snapped, as though finished with all such niceties, "You are letting in a draft."
Sliding the door quickly behind her, Kagome quickly seated herself a safe distance from Sesshoumaru and quietly gazed at him. Even she herself had not known her purpose in entering into a domain such as this. Why was she here, she quietly asked herself, as her blue eyes wandered about the room.
On one solid wall, was a great collection of beautifully bound books, drawers, slots filled with scrolls, and a few wall hangings on which a few poems were artfully written.
In the farthest corner, there was a particularly ancient looking wall scroll. Reading it carefully, Kagome found herself recognizing the poet.
"Matsuo," she breathed, her lips forming a slight contented smile. Reading the poem allowed in a hushed voice, she whispered, "New Year's Day: The desks and bits of paper, just as last year…"
Sesshoumaru glanced up from his desk, at first bewildered by her sudden outbreak of speech. What had she been talking about? New Years Day? Following her gaze, he realized that Kagome had been inspecting his room. What did she think of it, he wondered to himself. She had good taste to notice the best piece in the room, the original poem by the great master Matsuo. Yet, he had not signed it, except for on the back of the scroll in his red stamp…so then, Sesshoumaru thought, this girl must have been familiar with his haiku.
"I," Sesshoumaru began, unaware that he was even speaking for a moment or two, "I used to have one by Shiki. It went, 'Oppressive heat; My mind in a whirl, I listen to the peals of thunder.'" Pausing, he glanced at Kagome for her approval. She seemed interested, and so he continued, admitting coolly, "It is how I always imagine summer."
Kagome smiled at him, against her will. This handsome face before her had killed so many. He was a jaded man, seen many more years that she could ever expect. This man had seen people covered in tears of blood, seen the deaths and births of countless friends and enemies, seen the cold winter and hot summer…
Yet, Kagome could not help thinking that there was something innocent about him. As though something he was not aware of was missing. Something that many others possessed and he believed had no use.
Kagome, thinking back to Inuyasha, realized that this trait was not inherited with the family. It was unique in every way to Sesshoumaru.
Glancing up, she noticed that Sesshoumaru was staring at her in that intense way he had of looking at everything…as though there was something about her which he could not make out, something he could not understand, something that he wished to discover.
"I came in to say hello." Kagome admitted, finding not much of anything to say, "I was sort of lonely."
Sesshoumaru, never blinking, replied curtly, "Do not speak to take up time. Only speak when it is necessary." Pausing, his eyes shifted slightly back to the old wall scroll. His mouth moved, and he questioned almost hesitantly, "Why would you come to me, of all people, if you are lonely? There is nothing I can do to heal or ease your loneliness. You must learn that life is suffering."
Blinking in surprise, Kagome felt a flush of awkwardness return to her cheek. Following his gaze to the scroll, Kagome replied in turn, perhaps a bit hotly, "Where did you get such an attitude? Why must you constantly have such a pessimistic and nonchalant outlook? Is there nothing in this world that matters to you? Nothing that can touc you?"
Sesshoumaru's eyes burned with fury and slight humiliation. A youkai could not care. It was something that was not done. How dare she even suggest that! As though caring was a good thing? What did care and affection bring? It brought death and sickness, remorse, struggle and deception.
"You know nothing of anything that matters. There is only one thing I desire. Only one." He snapped, his eyes glowing red in anger. "And it is none of your concern. Once this war is over you may return to your beloved, and both of us may be happy that we will never have to see one another again."
Blinking back tears of anger and frustration, Kagome yelled bitterly, "Why must you be this way? Is being pleasant such a strain? Is being capable of feelings so difficult? I would have thought you of all people would have the strength to over come populous opinions and—and continue with life!"
His fists clenched in rage, Sesshoumaru whispered dangerously, "You know nothing of me, my past, and what I desire, you presumptuous wench. You, who have lived your life without seeing death and deceit, you who hope for the best when at the first sign of opposition and frustration resort to dark and underhanded ways to complete your motives." His form suddenly seemed to transform before of Kagome, the true grace and bloodthirsty power changing him into something she had only witnessed in her nightmares.
Yet, she could not succumb to the power he threw smugly in her direction.
The smell of incense began to cloud her scenes, the smell and smoke arriving out of nowhere, as though an invisible hand had lit the cones on the bookshelves. Her mind glazed over such insignificant details. What did she care of incense? Slowly and quite unsteadily she rose, becoming increasingly light-headed with every passing moment.
Casting a dark look full of anger and regret she made her way towards the shoji screen. Closing her eyes, she stumbled slightly towards the frame and clung onto it firmly. A cold sweat formed on her brow, and her breathing became shallow. Darkness began to possess her body and scratch un-mercilessly at her senses. Her chest began to throb in a pain as though someone was yanking at her heart, trying to pull it free from her body. Glancing sadly at Sesshoumaru, she whispered, "It should not be this way. We should not carry grudges of the past…"
Closing her eyes, she succumbed and embraced the darkness that possessed escape from the otherworldly pain.
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Naraku, from within the dark recesses of his house, watched in amused silence as Sesshoumaru sprung up from his seated position, and in not even a second, rushed to the girls side. It was beautiful; Naraku thought that their relationship was slowly beginning. Yet, Naraku knew that this short-lived play would soon end.
Already it was apparent that Sesshoumaru cared for the girl much deeper than it appeared on his mirror like surface. His expressionless guise gave away all secrets to the longing of his heart. His anger, frustration, and pity directed at the girl were such a transparent guise that it caused a rich laughter to fill the secluded room. So quickly would Sesshoumaru come to the girl's side, as demonstrated in her fainting spell, that it would prove to be his downfall.
Quietly exiting his secluded chamber and erasing his precious pedestal filled with the all-seeing liquid, he made his way once again to the entranceway where the baked figure was beginning to cool.
Urasue sent a worried glance in his direction, and barked, "Did you light the soul stealing incense? Has she gone unconscious?"
Naraku said nothing until he was close enough to her rancid frame, "Yes. She proved no match for its powers. When she awakes, what then? Will she know that part of her soul has been, how should I say it, borrowed?"
Urasue thought for a moment, or at least that was what Naraku presumed she was doing. Her wrinkles formed in an expression to give a generalization to thought, and her large beady eyes seemed to be concentrating on something else not in the present area.
"She will feel empty, as though something has been taken," Urasue admitted finally, "But the girl is not yet aware of her dormant powers lying within her. She will not know that her soul has in fact been taken, partly at least, by another being. And," she added subjectively, "Even if she has such an idea, there is no way she knows who or what is causing such actions on her."
Naraku laughed mightily, "I suppose ignorance is bliss in her condition. We'll just let her have fun while she can, before reality attacks stealthily in the night."
Urasue, from the great depths of her coarsely woven garments, withdrew a lethal looking weapon and moved hastily towards the steaming ceramic figure.
Naraku watched in amazement as the old hag breathed a few words, causing a great white ball of mist to appear and settle near her free and outstretched hands. Perhaps he had indeed underestimated the witch's powers after all. If she could really pull this off…
He was unnerved slightly as the wrinkled form lifted a great scythe that had formerly been causally laying at her side, over her head in a great sweeping movement and brought it crashing down into the skull of the figure. A great crack was heard. For a moment, all was quiet except for the sound of the embers dying down from the old fire, as well as the sound of his quickened breathing. Then, a series of small cracks began to form all over the body, a few at first, and then they began to spread with the intricacy of a spider's web. Stepping forward, Naraku withdrew his breath quickly as he watched Urasue lean over the body and submerge the glowing ball of mist into its porous form.
It moved.
Shocked by all amazement, his heart beating almost as quickly as it did during intercourse, Naraku found himself grinning madly. Soon…
Urasue's form was now breathing heavily, a great sweat appearing on her prune-like brow. "Quick," she called hoarsely, "The spirits…!"
Almost immediately, the youkai arrived, their forms carrying a glowing ball of mist almost similar to the one that Urasue had formerly possessed. The only difference was that Kagome's soul was brighter, and gold in color…
"Will this do?" Naraku called, stepping forward, his eyes wide in amazement as the clay fell away revealing what used to be the hallow inside. Instead, the pink flesh greeted his ravenous eyes. His internal senses flared dangerously on the edge as the pieces continued to fall away and the former woman once again appeared in all her youth and beauty. Everything about her seemed perfect. Her long elegant neck, her beautiful shapely breasts just as Urasue has sculpted them, her long and luminous hair falling about her as though it was made to be some primitive cape.
Her small pink mouth quietly whispered a name, a name that Naraku knew too well.
"Inuyasha…"
Even in death, their love had survived. Closing his eyes, Naraku scowled angrily and promised himself that in this lifetime only he would claim the love of Kikyou. In her previous life, she had escaped his grasp. Yet now….not so…not so…
Leaning over her reclined frame, Naraku touched her face gingerly, his expression almost sincere in appearance, "Why do you speak the name of your enemy? In death does he haunt you still?"
The girls eyed opened slowly, the dilated pupils shifting to gaze confusedly at Naraku. Whether or not it was the fact that she was now embraced in his arms, or the fact that the sun glinted down on her through the overhead trees, she whispered almost inaudibly, "Inuyasha…my enemy?"
"Can't you remember? Remember when he killed you that terrible day? His silver hair glinting in the light, his golden eyes glaring down at you….?" He touched her face tenderly, running his hands against her parted lips. "Don't you remember?"
"I…" she paused, her eyes clouded over in bewilderment. Yes, it was true, she thought dimly, she remembered the golden eyes and silver hair…she remembered his voice there by her side in her last moments. She remembered this man by her side…from somewhere…she remembered his voice, even if not his face…
Yet, Inuyasha…her enemy? Could that be true? Was it he who laughed without mercy as she fell to the ground, was it he who licked her blood off his claws?
"It is no other…" Naraku whispered into her ear, licking it slightly, "I have brought you back so you may avenge him…and once again, may we be together…"
Closing her eyes, the being found that a mysterious wetness formed at her eyes for reasons she could not comprehend.
The wind whispered through the surrounding trees, their green and new leaves suddenly dark in their appearance. As though something mysterious hung in the trees; something sinister. Opening her eyes once again, they turned hard in anger. This hatred was directed at none other than her enemy; Inuyasha.
When she spoke the name again, it was full of anger, hatred and malice, "Inuyasha…I trusted you."
Speaking her name for the first time as he picked her bare body gently from the ground, Naraku began to whisper the plot that for months he had been carefully constructing under the cover of nightfall. This plan to acquire this one treasure, to obtain his ultimate goal. His apple of his eye. Kikyou and her jewel. Both glinted beautifully, for now they were nearly within his grasp. In the dawn of the morning, his plans would dissipate, only to form once again at dusk…
"Kikyou…"
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Opening her eyes, Kagome blinked at the unexpected light that surrounded her from what seemed days of darkness. She was cold and clammy; yet surrounding her was a great and protective warmth. She could not discern what or where the heat radiated from…yet was evident all the same. It was perhaps her only comfort…this warmth…
Groaning slight, she shifted her body, and found her muscles sore, as though she had been strenuous in some activity. She felt tired at the same time as well, yet strangely hollow and empty.
Closing her eyes tightly, she tried to remember as far back as was achievable. There was only the argument with Sesshoumaru, his cold and angry eyes glaring at her from across the room. It seemed that the moments in which Sesshoumaru looked at her took up most of the time, and for a few moments she found it hard to remember what else had taken place. All she could remember was his face, evident throughout the fog. Yet then, slowly, like a distant memory, new layers revealed themselves to her…There was the sudden smell of incense that washed over her. There was her strain to walk, however unsteadily, across the room—and then…her falling into a luscious warmth and darkness.
What could it have been…?
Fluttering her eyes once again, she found herself gazing into the worried face of Sesshoumaru. Their eyes met, and his face turned emotionless so swiftly that Kagome had assumed his expression had been a trick of the light.
"Sesshoumaru…" she whispered. There were so many things she wanted to ask; so many words of comfort she wished to hear. Yet, Kagome knew that no such sympathy would arise from the man who now cradled her in his arms.
Gazing down at the flushed girl, Sesshoumaru's heart grew quieter. For the past five minutes, this girl had been in his arms, not moving, hardly breathing. For a moment, she had shaken slightly and perhaps there was a mistake of the light, yet he could have sworn that a golden wisp of smoke departed from her body.
Sesshoumaru, for that period of five minutes, had been in a confused hell. For the first time in many years, he was unsure of his actions, unsure of what should be done. Should he have left her, and called for help? Stay by her side…? Yet, the thoughts continued… what if she died? What if she became possessed by a demon? Questions flooded through his mind, unfiltered in their content, and a deep drowning sensation possessed his body. As though icy hands were pulling him through a black abyss…
And then, suddenly, the hell dissipated, and he found that the girl in his arms stirred and slowly moved her lips, her first words whispering his name.
"Kagome," he began, helping her to sit upright, "What happened?"
She seemed as clueless as he did in the whole matter. As disappointing as it all was, Sesshoumaru could not help but feel relived. It was better, the less information she knew about this dark story happening from behind the curtains…
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The fire had turned to glowing coals as night approached. The servants crowded about the embers, baking potatoes and anything else they could get their hands on. Their faces lit with an unearthly and almost eerie glow, moved not. All was quiet, no songs, and no words—nothing. Something whispered on the wing, and all knew. Even before he was not a mile away, they knew that he, the man their master had been waiting for, approached to fling himself into Naraku's outstretched arms, waiting and ready for attack.
Their eyes, alit with the withering flames, gazed towards the entrance of the compound, as the sound of hoofs beating against the hard ground grew louder. Almost as though they though they would never stop, the air lingered with the memory of the sound.
Then, bursting into view, the trees falling back behind him, Inuyasha, the lord of the eastern lands arrived. His eyes sparked and glowed as much as the dying coals where earlier in the day, a great bonfire had once bloomed. His silver hair, nearly the color the light the moon gave off, glinted like reflections against a lake, an angry and tumultuous lake. Everything about the man reeked of anger, frustration, and lack of hope. His form was bent, due to hours on his worn out steed, his eyes, although a lit, were now glowing, soon to burn out.
The horse was pulled to a stop outside the main entry to the building. A block of light appeared in the compound, a large square, almost cut and pasted into its odd place. A bent figure of an old lady appeared, bowing low.
The onlookers could not hear the intercourse, but then, they all knew the outcome. Their eyes sad, they watched as Inuyasha, the once pure and noble ruler of the eastern lands, stepped into the house of discrepancy, the house that would bind him un-mercilessly until he fell over, strangled to death by his own means. Sesshoumaru, the onlookers and servants knew, was jaded and experienced in the world. Even if all collapsed around the elder brother, everyone knew that the youkai could pull himself out of the rubble and begin again. Inuyasha would die beneath the rocks, suffocated and blind even to the very last moment….
Stumbling through the endless halls, surrounded by shoji screens everywhere he looked, half drugged by his own despair and exhaustion, Inuyasha whispered Naraku's name like a chant. Suddenly, there was nothing more beautiful and appealing that all this man had to offer him. Memories of his past, and the reality of his present, had arisen once more on the long journey to Naraku's mountaintop abode. The sorrow had overwhelmed him, and for a period of two hours, his horse led him blinding along. Then, as the sun grew lower on the horizon the first perception of a glimmer of hope shown through the clouds of his own creation. His happiness was still attainable; still could be grasped; he could rewrite his future with Kagome. Only with her, only with the still untouched and fragile innocent bloom, could he once again experience such an emotion.
Then, his appearance darkened even more so. Once again, his brother had taken what was most dear from him, intent on destroying his life for the idiosyncrasies of his fathers will. In truth, it was his fathers' determination that had created his past and was still shaping his future. The sword he had inherited, the sword he would one-day use against his brother, was the cause of all the struggles and strife.
"Naraku…" he heard himself murmuring, almost unconsciously.
His ears pricked in sensitivity, and he looked up to find Naraku, standing at the end of the hall, his form filled with such beauty and grace, almost of a female. And yet, this was Naraku; and his beauty was brought on by Inuyasha's longing to defeat the common obstacle. Naraku's dark eyes glowed quietly, as though fireflies swam within their depths. His cloak of eggplant colored fabric mingled with a dark green, silver and black about him. Then…his hands reached out, and half mad, Inuyasha stumbled and fell gratefully into the only person he could trust, the only person who truly cared for his well being.
Gripping the frame of his body, he spoke not, his eyes unseeing of his reality. A dry sob came to his lips.
Gazing down at his unpolished gem, Naraku whispered tenderly, "Do not worry, Inuyasha, for tonight you shall find your happiness."
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AN: sorry for the long delay of this chapter. I actually had it written and thought I had updated it, but then I realized *dOh* I did no such thing! So, once again, sorry for the lateness, but I knew you guys would all understand.