Series: Inuyasha
Chapter 29
Rating: pg13
Warnings: none
AN: So, we come down to it, don't we? After 28 other chapters of beating around the bush, here it comes. The war, of course. I believe that as a writer these chapters will be the most taxing and difficult, but hopefully the end event will be good. In any case, I hope you enjoy it…and also, I suggest that if you have not previously, for a map to places I reference, go here…http : // www. Geocities .com / furinkoto _ neko / map (it should help you out, so you can locate out what the hell I am talking about)
Also, this is a rather long chapter, about 20 pages of there abouts…so….lol, be prepared for a *long* read. In addition, please forgive me for not updating last night. I did not get home until 11 and then I watched Sen to Chihiro with some friends.
And, as usual, thank you so much TaskinLude! You make this so much easier for me…
*
This chapter is dedicated to Salma.
Shadows Against a Shoji Screen
Chapter 29
Into the Mists
*
Setting the cup of tea down against his polished cypress table, Sesshoumaru's
golden eyes narrowed into slits of cunning. His fingers traced along a range
of mountains, carefully painted onto a worn piece of paper, the piece of paper
onto which would decide his own and his country's fate.
All was silent. All was still. Life—war—nothing had begun.
"So," he whispered to no one in particular, "It will be
this way, will it?"
The only answer he received was the tinkle of the wind-chime out on the veranda,
echoing the uncertainty in his heart.
Sesshoumaru was aware, more so than anyone he believed, the importance of
the decision that he allowed. He knew that his plan had to be ingenious, swift,
and merciless. Only in a quiet, steady stream of blood could his soldiers
find courage and resilience, only once their enemy lay dead could they return
home: home to their children, their wives, their houses, their mothers; home
to their world, and all that they held dear.
Sesshoumaru, on the other hand, would return to a quiet dwelling, devoid of
all that mattered. Despite what he felt and thought and hoped, despite everything,
he knew that when he returned from the war, Kagome would no longer be by his
side.
Like the bird she was, she would have flown into the great blue sky in search
of a futile ambition called happiness.
Rolling up the map, he tucked it within the folds of his clothes and set off
down the unlit and hushed hall, and into the blue light of those predawn hours.
Before the sun had risen, and the world turned gray under the presence of
the storm clouds, the countryside was washed in a cool blue, turning everyone's
skin into that strange, if not, miraculous tinge of azure.
The men were waiting in the camp at the base of the mountain, at least seven
thousand or so. His followers were devoted, and for this loyalty he mutely
thanked him. For without men, no wars could ever be fought.
Without loyalty there was nothing.
A few of them stared at Sesshoumaru as he made his way down the slippery wet
trail, fresh and gleaming from the latest downpour. Many of the men had never
seen him, but only heard of their youkai leader from stories and word by mouth
that had spread over the country. Many of his men were but simple farmers
and workmen from the hills and valleys. To them, this war was only temporary—for
after all, the rice crop awaited them come next spring.
All had the intention to return, and Sesshoumaru, against his better half,
could not tell them otherwise.
Yes, some would die and some would live. Whether or not they would return
to their homes next spring depended on the will and determination of these
men. Some would find themselves looking at the cherry blossoms once again;
others would be buried beneath them.
The men's eyes, black and brown, were full of a silent strength, and
Sesshoumaru smiled softly to himself. These men had yet to prove their worth.
The tent closest to the mountain was where one of his generals was residing,
and pulling aside the heavy canvas flap, he found the man glance up from his
hunched position. From the looks of it, General Miyazawa was polishing his
sword, temporarily out of business—at least until the war ended. Arima
Miyazawa was a man of Sesshoumaru's past some ten years before, a man
known to him on many a bloody night along the long desolate hallways of castles
and back alleys in Kyoto.
"This weather won't help," Miyazawa sighed, swishing the
blade in the air for a moment before cleanly returning it to his hilt on his
left side. Miyazawa's sword stung: its strength a scorpion. Sesshoumaru's
sword sung; it was a painful beauty, it was the invisible poison. "The
blasted rain will make the mountain pass difficult, and will only delay the
men in the field country."
Sesshoumaru, pouring himself a glass of Sake, sighed heavily, "Well
then, we must only hope for the best."
Miyazawa chuckled and scratched at his heavy stubble, "There is no hope
that will do soldiers any good. Hope only leads to faith, and in the end,
most become disappointed."
Sesshoumaru sipped his Sake ever so slightly, but said nothing. There was
a time in which he could have agreed with Miyazawa, but somehow, over the
course of a few years, everything had changed. Yes, Miyazawa was still a friend,
an ally, but somehow they no longer held that same principle and outlook on
life.
Sometimes one had to delude oneself just to survive. That was all that life
was; survival.
Above him, Sesshoumaru heard the splatter of random drops falling upon the
material of the canvas tent. Taking it as a sign, Sesshoumaru withdrew the
map from his garments and spread it out against the foldable table located
in the center of the room. Leaning over it, Miyazawa grabbed a candle and
settled himself down in a chair and studied the landscape.
"So, what is the first course of action?" The general questioned,
draining the rest of the youkai's cup.
Sesshoumaru's long tapered nails ran along a large vein-like etching
on the map, labeled 'Tenryu River'. His nails might have been
the hand of God.
In the ever cool, ever familiar voice, Sesshoumaru began, "As you know,
Miyazawa, the key to infiltrating the Okuba Valley is to cross over this river."
Miyazawa nodded, and added, "Yes, that river and its dignitaries practically
divide your domains in half. Very convenient, except for the fact that we
are in war and have to cross the bloody thing."
Sesshoumaru grimaced, "In addition, the river is swollen from these
rains. It will be quite some time until her waters have receded."
Until next summer, I would surmise…
"So you are saying that the only way to cross this thing is…on
the bridges?" Miyazawa questioned, pointing to a number of structures
that crossed the Koyou, Koten, and Yoi tributaries.
"Indeed. It will be the same for Inuyasha as well. The only way to infiltrate
the Setsuma and Yokone Valleys is to cross these bridges at some point or
another. Wading the rapids would prove dangerous and fruitless if they were
to attempt such an attack."
Inuyasha is not that foolish as to risk his men in such a way…
"I suppose that these damn rains have their benefits as well. But it
seems like it is a double edged sword for anyone involved." Miyazawa
chuckled at this last comment, but his dark black eyes were scanning the map,
awaiting the cunning that Sesshoumaru kept up his sleeve.
Sesshoumaru's long fingernail followed a collection of dots that seemed
to demonstrate a road. It was labeled 'Minami'.
"The key in this war is to ensure that our armies successfully reach
and defend the Minami road. This road is the main system in and out of the
Setsuma Valley, with exceptions for the Sagano pass and small mountain trails.
I find it unlikely, however, that Inuyasha will manage to reach the Sagano
Pass, being that he would have to follow the Seikoku Road—which leads
along the rear end of the mountains and could take well over a week."
But then again…Naraku could reach the Sagano Pass in no time…
"Do you think he would risk the time?" Miyazawa questioned anxiously,
glancing up at Sesshoumaru and his grave _expression.
Inuyasha would not, but Naraku…?
"I think not. I believe that both my brother and I wish for this war
to end and for the victor to be decided as soon as possible. He would not
draw battle out in such a way. I will inform General Inamoto that he should
guard the Sagano Pass and the road leading to the Kokango Shrine. However,
I believe that Inuyasha will not make a pass, at least, not coming in from
the west. It is only the east, north and south that we must worry about."
I lie through my teeth. Naraku is fully capable of destroying my domain…I
will have to talk to Inamoto in private…
"But still, you will assign Inamoto that section? I would feel relieved
if you did so. War is a tricky thing, everyone is Tanuki's and Foxes—everyone
can merge and change until you don't know what the hell they do."
Or who the hell they are…
A change came over Miyazawa for a moment; a desperate tone came to his voice,
and Sesshoumaru knew that the horrors of that one-day in battle so long ago
had not left him. The day those ten men had been assigned to the western entrance
to the castle of Fujiwara, with Miyazawa and himself as the generals. The
two of them saw all their men murdered, and Miyazawa had lost his sight in
his left eye for over a year. Those images of red and black still followed
him like the stench of rotting flesh.
"I will assign Inamoto to the Sagano and Kokango, Miyazawa. I would
not fear for Inuyasha's men if I were you. I have prepared thirty messenger
birds, and can find more from Kyoto if needed. Yet, if an unforeseen attack
arrives, we shall be prepared."
And unforeseen attacks are very…likely…
Miyazawa smiled, or strangled to do so. War had not been kind to Miyazawa,
and it was only at times like this that one could see the determination within
his soul; the determination to override this fear.
"Continue on, Sesshoumaru-sama. What other tactics do you have with
you?" Miyazawa resumed, turning his attention towards the map once again.
Returning back to the Minami road, Sesshoumaru explained, "Inuyasha
will be expecting us to arrive full blown in the Yamachi-Kofuchi-Tairo triangle
by taking those respective bridges so that we may take the Sanemori and Yoshinaka
passes to infiltrate the Okuba Valley. This is the most logical course of
entry; there are only three passes into the Okuba valley, and the Yuukie pass
is regarded as the most dangerous."
"Which," surmised Miyazawa, "Is precisely the reason that
the ablest men shall go in through the Yuukie pass?"
"That is so. We will cross the Oe Bridge and cross the flatlands until
we arrive at the Yuukie pass. Half of our men on this campaign will travel
a ways up the Hayashi road and backtrack along a small trail that cuts through
the Suiyoko mountains. I am not admitting that Inuyasha might realize our
main course of action, but it is a possibility that the Oe flatlands may hold
many of his men."
But let us hope not…
"And so, that is why those half men backtrack through the Suiyoko pass,
in case the first wave is hit with Inuyasha's men?"
"Exactly. They will act as a second force, and with over half our men
traveling on this campaign, we are sure to win the Oe flatlands and the northern
most region of the Okuba Valley. From there, if all goes correctly, your men
will take the Tsuyoshi road and cut across the mountains to overtake Inuyasha's
castle and much of the Okuba Valley."
"And what of the remaining men at the Kofuchi-Yamachi-Tairo triangle?
What will they act as?"
"A diversion, of course. I shall travel with you as far as the Hayashi
road and then meet General Terashima in the northern most region of Taishou
Valley, near the location of the Shikon no Tama Shrine. And there, god willing,
I shall meet my brother and take back what is mine."
"You mean his sword of course?"
I suppose I must…
"What else can I take?" Sesshoumaru whispered quietly, "All
that I hold dear, he already has legal claim. He may win in love, but he will
loose terribly at war."
If this is the only way I can wreak revenge, so be it…!
Sesshoumaru's hands had turned pallid, and he released his grasp on
the hilt of the sword and allowed the blood to return to flow through his
veins.
"That is the Sesshoumaru I remember. Always hungry for blood, always
willing to do whatever it took to get what he desired." Miyazawa slapped
him amiably on the back and returned to the polishing of his samurai sword.
After all, Sesshoumaru, as ruler and commander of this prefecture and army,
had many other matters to attend to.
"Yes, I am Sesshoumaru…always hungry for blood."
And blood, it seems, is the only thing I am ever allowed…
It had begun to rain again, and the dim shouts of men running for cover could
be heard. It was not dawn, but those blue, cold and wet hours before.
With the coming of the sun, the time of reckoning would come.
When the golden orb slipped over the horizon, unseen from behind the gray
clouds, he would say goodbye.
*
Sounds of pots and pans echoed through the kitchen. Whispers and cries, laughing
and shouting. Since midnight it had been this way, although for those first
hours, all was quiet. Only the gentle boiling of stew, the cooking of chicken
and vegetables, and the dull pats of rice balls being formed by gentle and
patient hands could be heard. But now, with the arrival of dawn, with the
exit of Sesshoumaru, the kitchen had sprung to life again.
Fujiko, heaving a large heavy pot full of steaming stew onto an oxcart and
tying it securely down with rough twine, called, "Have you finished,
Kagome-sama? Oba-chan?"
An old wrinkled lady popped up her head and smiled, the youth still evident
in her movements. "Almost, Fujiko-chan, I am making sure we have enough
pickled vegetables. You know how much those boys eat. It's a good thing
that the members from the village contributed."
Kagome laughed and wiped her forehead, her body nearly covered in rice flour
from preparing mochi, "It was so sweet of them to help. We surely would
not have been able to feed seven thousand or so men all by ourselves."
The old lady nodded, and stood up, bringing over a large bucket filled with
grilled fish and attached it to the oxcart.
"The other women and children… when are they coming again?"
Fujiko questioned, jumping up to help Oba-chan with the heavy grilled fish.
Kagome, putting the last batch of mochi into a large pot full of broth, thought
for a moment, "At five I believe. The men leave at six thirty, so hopefully
the other women can finish feeding the men at their posts in about half an
hour."
Fujiko nodded, and grinned, "That should be no problem. The whole village
helped out with this one. It is the least the women and children can do."
A flush from the exercise and haste had come to the woman's cheeks,
and their movements became quicker. Already the light had become gray, thick
with the oncoming of dawn.
Five minutes later, the darkened silhouettes of three women, all in varying
stages of maturity, made their way down the side of the mountain, slipping
in the mud a number of times. Kagome, who could not help but laugh, grinned
softly to herself as she lead the way with the oxcart down the path. Oba-chan
and Fujiko held and secured the rear, and as the three made their way down
into the darkness, Kagome realized that for the first time, she was becoming
part of a family.
She was becoming a commoner.
How long had she wished for such a thing? To be accepted as a normal person?
Her simple country clothes were dripping in mud by the time they reached the
first canvas tent, and as wet and as soaked as the three women were themselves.
They may have fallen many a time, but their spirits soared above the clouds,
for reasons none could quite understand.
A young man of fifteen saw them first, and his eyes lit up with a fire that
not even the rain could extinguish. Pumping his legs, he rushed to their sides
and exclaimed, "Come, let me help you!"
Replying merrily, Kagome suggested, "All we need is a dry place to distribute
the food."
The young man laughed, and exclaimed, his cheeks becoming redder by the moment
as he gazed at Kagome, "My tent is as good as any, I suppose."
Helping Kagome with the oxcart he called out, "Look, Soijiro! No rice
gruel today!"
A young man of similar character popped his head out from a tent with a confused
look on his face, but then a broad grin spread forth. Jumping out into the
rain, he immediately rushed to help.
And then the men appeared like the flowers of April and May, all willing to
participate, all commenting on the lovely odor of the food, the kindness of
the ladies, and the fairness of the weather.
"Now, now!" Kagome called out over the shoulders of men, "Form
a line and get your bowls and plates from your tent! We have more than enough
for everyone!"
Shouts and cheers issued forth, and Kagome glowed with pleasure as she scooped
out the grilled fish and mochi to those who had already grabbed their bowls.
Five minutes had passed; the line dwindling somewhat to only a large crowd,
and the smile on Kagome's face had yet to be extinguished. Then, suddenly,
the shouts and cheers and discussions of the men went quiet, and the large
mass of bodies parted, until a glimmer of silver caught the gray light, and
the flash of red illuminated the blue and grey uniforms.
His eyes were emotionless and cold, and for a moment, Kagome found that she
did not know this man. He was a stranger to her in every way. But slowly she
recognized him as the man she had met on her first day in his fortress. The
cold, angry, and brutal demon, the demon who gave nothing away, the demon
that was quick and cunning with words.
She stepped back in uncertainty, irresolute of her what her actions would
be. Hesitant of what they should be.
"What the devil do you think you are doing here?" He snapped angrily,
spreading his arms out to indicate the food as well. His voice was filled
with tension like the clouds above their heads.
But, Kagome had braved the weather, and she would brave the temper of the
youkai as well.
"I," Kagome replied sternly, though not angrily, "Have brought
food for your men in this portion of the camp. Fujiko and Oba-san helped as
well."
"And did I give you permission to do this?" Sesshoumaru questioned,
crossing his arms, his eyes still in thin and livid slits.
"No. And I need none, not from you, or anyone!" Kagome answered,
crossing her own arms, ladle still in her hand, her eyes just as fiery.
"You disregard your lord?" His voice was now taunting, furious,
and bitter. Whether or not he was serious, Kagome could not tell. Then again,
it was very unlikely that Sesshoumaru would joke about such a thing.
"You are not my lord!" She yelled angrily, slamming the ladle
down into the pot and glaring up at him, "Nor shall you ever be! No
one rules me!"
Gasps emitted from the crowd of men, some of them were smiling, and others
were looking at her in wonder, some in incredulity.
Fujiko, who had been watching the exchange between the two (as had most of
the camp) took this opportunity and rushed forward, grabbed onto Kagome's
arm and pulled her back somewhat.
"Please forgive us, Sesshoumaru-sama! We thought that you would be pleased
with this! It is all the women and children can do for their family, and some
might…some might not see them…aga—,"
"Stop there." Sesshoumaru commanded, gazing down at her, "There
is no need to carry on."
"Please forgive Kagome on my account, Lord Sesshoumaru. We only wished
to help."
Tears pricked at Fujiko's eyes, though they were hardly visible, for
she bent her head humbly before her lord. Kagome, on the other hand, was still
glaring up at Sesshoumaru, although her expression had softened somewhat.
For a long still moment there was only the sound of the light rain and the
men's breathing.
Then, turning on his heel, Sesshoumaru murmured, "Do as you wish. Next
time consult me on the matter."
He walked a few yards, paused and turned around. His eyes had lost the malice
and anger and self-confidence. A twinkle of emotion shone within their amber
depths, and turning to glance back at Kagome, he called, "Meet me in
the courtyard in an hour."
She met his eyes for a brief moment, and in that period of time she too felt
an emotion well up inside her breast. The words Kagome had spoken were angry
and rash, and regret fell about her now like the rain.
Looking away, hoping to hide her tears, she nodded and began to serve the
food once again.
Studying her a moment longer, his features turned cold and ruthless as they
had forever been, and he made his way once again towards the general's
tent to notify him of the tactics and carrier birds that would be directed
in his service.
"Now, Sesshoumaru, there is no time for this. Forget the girl. See only
the war ahead…only the war…," he whispered to himself, stiffly
and indignantly. His movements became more hurried, and he even knocked into
a few people in his haste. He did not pause, did not even look back. For looking
back, looking back would only bring regrets.
General Miyazawa stepped above a man who had been knocked aside in Sesshoumaru's
wrath, and explained, "Do not despise the youkai; he has learned too
late in life what really matters."
The foot-solider and the general watched the youkai through the trees, a youkai
trying to escape the past and find a future. A future that the world would
not bring.
The clouds opened up once again and the drops echoed in the brown puddles.
The ripples of the first were forgotten by the second, and the third, the
forth, the fifth, the sixth…until it was just a blur of movements.
*
The white of the canvas tents were like fireworks in the night: visible, even
in the darkness.
"Do you see them, Sango?" Rin questioned, holding on to the edge
of a cliff. Her bright eyes glowed with the recognition of the valley which
lay before her, with the barely visible fortress high on the mountainside.
"Yes. So this is the famed Valley of Setsuma; just as impressive as
I would have imagined. But we must be quick. They will set out at dawn, and
we do not know if Kagome will go with them," Sango replied, brushing
a speckle of mud from her cheeks as she made her way back to the sheltering
pine tree that that most of the party had been standing beneath for cover.
Miroku, chewing on a piece of tofu he had purchased from the nearby town,
remarked, "Do you expect us to travel across this valley unseen and
undetected…before dawn?" He questioned it in such a manner that
it did not seem as though he was not incredulous, just curious as to their
direction and course of action.
Kouga, who was squatting on the ground and chewing on an apple core, grumbled,
"Well if we're gonna do it, let's do it now. We don't
have enough time as it is!"
There was a crack of lightening, and jumping in surprise, Rin looked up at
Shippou and whispered, "I'm scared, Shippou. What will happen?
Do you suppose we will reach his fortress in time?"
Shippou grinned slowly and gently placed his hand atop her shoulder, "Don't
worry, Rin. Whatever happens, happens. There is nothing we can do to control
fate." Looking down at her, he flushed slightly and added, "I
will protect you."
Then came the thunder. And with that roaring boom, the party set out, climbing
along the mossy and muddy trails. They skirted the campsites, falling along
the rocks, slipping in the water, the overflowing streams. The trees raged
at them, as though they themselves were soldiers, bound and determined to
halt the procession.
Kouga led the way, followed by Rin, who knew the region better then anyone.
Sango followed Rin, and after that there was Miroku, Shippou, and the remains
of Kouga's men, who talked jovially to themselves about similar anecdotes.
Through the thick pine trees, the party could see glimpses of activities:
the men sharpening their swords and battle axes, the caretakers of the horses
loading the saddles and brushing the coats, men were eating in their tents,
the front flaps thrown open.
It was a miniature world that few rarely beheld, for this world only sprung
when the scent of blood called out to them from afar.
As the party continued to walk, Kouga, the leader of the group, thought of
how far the party had traveled in such a short amount of time. Any way that
had been possible, probable or even unlikely, the group had taken. If the
roads had been difficult they had borrowed horses, if the roads had been impassible
they had constructed rafts or paid fishermen for use of their boats. If the
weather proved terrible, with flooding or great sun—they continued on,
for a cause that they were all equally unsure of.
But there was a common goal: the goal to get their revenge upon Naraku in
any way possible. Revenge, thought Kouga, did not necessarily mean death,
did it? Revenge meant making something so unforgettable and irksome that the
bastard would not try the same tactic before. Revenge meant spoiling his plans;
revenge meant stabbing him in the back and smiling down at the surprised and
tortured face. Revenge, there was no meaning to revenge, only actions.
Holding onto a tree trunk for support to help him up the slippery slope, Kouga
spat angrily, "I tell you, Miroku, once this is over; I am returning
to my home land and finding a girl!"
Although he could not see the traveling monk, Kouga guessed his expression:
amused and curious.
"What does what we are doing now have anything to do with finding a
girl?" Miroku called from down the hill.
"Well, I need to make sure the bloodline is passed on so, if one of
these damn adventures should ever happen again, I know my name won't
die with me." He nearly fell into the mud, but at the last moment he
grabbed onto an overhead branch above. The path up the mountain was nearly
vertical.
"Kouga, are you okay?" Rin questioned anxiously. He could feel
her cold wet hands against his back. They seemed to stick to him just as his
clothes did.
"I'm fine." Kouga coughed, glancing back at Rin who was
smiling up at him, rivers of water from the rain trailing down her face.
He grinned, and for a fleeting moment, Kouga thought to himself that he needed
not travel so far as home to find a wife…
But then, he shifted his eyes, and saw the glare of death being emitted from
Shippou and he realized that there was no hope, at least, as far as Rin was
concerned. Even though the damned fox demon was annoying and a coward (at
least when it came to wolf-youkai), the boy would not relinquish his female.
The damned fox would actually fight over her, and Kouga didn't particularly
feel like embarrassing him in front of his lady.
Flashing a grin back at Shippou, he winked, as though to say, 'don't
worry, she's yours.' Shippou, who did not seem to understand,
just blinked for a moment.
Heaving a sigh, Kouga looked up the trail and found that in a few hundred
yards the party would reach the top, and hopefully, it would not be as damned
slippery as it was here. Reaching out for the next tree trunk on which to
lean against, Kouga called back, "Come on, let's show this damned
hill!"
And with that, in all his wolf-like speed, he sped up the climb in a blink
of an eye. The rest of his pack from farther below bellowed and hooted for
their leader, and would have done the same if Kouga had not called down that
it was their duty to ensure that everyone arrived at the top.
There were moans and groans, but it was hardly perceptible, for the rain came
down even harder now. It was as though with each step they took closer towards
the domain of Sesshoumaru, the more nature was pulling them back. It was as
though nature begged, "Please, give me time, give me time. Just a bit
more. Just a bit, I beg you."
But the rain drowned out anything audible, and they pushed forward, even though
their time had not come. Even though the world was not ready for their entrance.
Even though…
Suddenly, there was a scream, a shout, a loud crash of branches, and through
the raindrops Kouga saw a flash of white and blue and black. It was Rin. She
was falling down the hill and toward the edge of encampment…
Hope, like the moth it was, became lost to the power of the flame…
*
The silk of her kimono reminded her of the scene beyond the shoji screens.
They depicted the wet atmosphere, the flooded rivers, thick with rain from
high in the mountains, the reeds flailing pathetically among the sudden gusts,
the world cloaked and hidden in a thin gauze of gray and blue. There was no
heron waiting in the pond now, it had forsaken its belly in search of shelter.
It had gone against its heart and instead had listened to its head.
Looking down at her sleeves, at the random and organically shaped patterns,
splashes of rain and ink almost like tear drops or splattered tea against
a piece of paper, she thought dimly of how different her attire had been from
the one she had worn earlier in the morn. The fog and the rain and the wind,
the grasses, the river—she had become them now.
At that point in time, she had not been the rain, but the earth that it touched.
She had not been high towering above the people, looking down below them,
a placid _expression of gray upon her features. She had been part of the earth,
a blend of all things, of the rain and the soil and the trees.
But in the end…was it not just a delusion, a romantic ideal that she
chased? The thought of starving if the rice-crop was dire, being forced to
marry the local village boy (although somehow, she found her situation no
better), the idea that a specified amount of their earnings went to the landlord—all
were the realities that at times she chose not to see. Kagome knew that she
preferred only to see what she wished to, and this was probably a habit that
had been formed every since she was a child. She had money, and if she wished
it, the sun could be the moon, and the moon the sun.
But she was distracting herself. She had no time for such thoughts. That moment
in her life was over and done with, and although it could never be repeated,
it was, she supposed, allowed to be treasured somewhere deep in the darkest
depths of her heart.
Looking into the mirror, she ran her hand along the curvilinear design in
the kimonos silk. She stepped back into her social class nearly instantaneously.
Fujiko, who had helped her with the many intricate layers of the kimono, gently
tied her hair in a simple gray ribbon and excused herself.
Pausing at the door, the young woman leaned against the screen and whispered
gently, "He will come back, Kagome-sama."
Glancing up from her kneeled position, she nodded slowly and whispered, "I
know he will return…"
Yes, there was no hesitation in her heart where that was concerned. Sesshoumaru
would survive the trauma of war; he would survive the blood and death, and
return even more shining then before.
It was not a question of Sesshoumaru's return, but of hers.
Fujiko had left her now and she was alone in the room. It had stopped raining
for the time period, and the world was trying unsuccessfully to dry off.
Drip.
Drop.
Drip.
He said to meet me in an hour. Has an hour passed?
Plop.
If I go, what would he say? His goodbyes?
Drip.
Yes. He would say goodbye. There is no doubt. I have to smile.
Drop.
I have to smile for his sake and mine. I have to be strong, as are all women
in times of war.
Drip.
Smile…for him…
Drop.
Standing smoothly, her eyes glancing up at a soaked bough of an overhanging
Cyprus tree, she made her way through the dwelling she had come to know so
well. Even in the interminable weeks in Inuyasha's abode, she had never
noticed the grain in the wood, the texture to the screen doors, the floorboards
that creaked. She could make her way through this place blind folded. Slipping
into a pair of slightly damp wooden sandals, she walked across the dripping
world, and out into the dreary foggy abyss. The clouds rolled over the hills,
swift and smooth. The nearby pine trees were all but covered in their gauze,
and only once in a while did their inky depths peak through.
There, in a place that was like she was on another planet, she saw his form
arrive through the dim. It was like a Chinese painting of old, that lone figure,
standing there, gazing in awe at all that surrounded them. She only wished,
bitterly, that she could see through this fog and to the future that her life
held.
Standing there, quietly among the gravel scattered courtyard, she did not
move. Kagome only watched as he moved closer to her, each step becoming more
and more defined. The gentle crunch of the gravel beneath his feet…
The whisper of his clothes…
His silver hair seemed to blend with the fog that surrounded the two of them,
a curtain from the world. Next, his attire, a pristine white happi coat with
the seal of his house scattered randomly about it in deep blue ink.
Sesshoumaru's golden eyes appeared last, glowing like coals in the night.
Never had she seen so much _expression within their depths, and she could
say or think nothing. He was no longer the stranger as he had been an hour
ago. He was the Sesshoumaru that Kagome remembered and knew; the one that
brought her heart pain, pain that she would have no other way.
It was self-inflicted torture, this romance of theirs.
He stopped two feet away and peered sternly down at her. She was speechless
and avoided his eyes although they cut off all words, all emotions. Her heart
tightened.
"We leave soon," Sesshoumaru began his voice purposely cool like
the mist. The demon was hiding his emotions, proving to the world that he
had none.
"I know," she found herself replying quickly, glancing down at
his hands that lay relaxed by his sides. The claws glinted in the weak bluish
light of morning. Soon, they would be stained with blood that would take time
for it to be washed clean, "With the sun."
"Yes."
He wanted to hold her. He wanted to take her in his arms and make her swear
that she would be here when he returned. Sesshoumaru had no doubt in his mind
that he would see this courtyard again. If the door to his heart were torn
open, would she be there, smiling serenely? Unable to detect even his own
destination, with a slender thread he gradually draw back to himself the memories
that were fading into the wind.
Sesshoumaru could not touch her. He did not want to. He had never enjoyed
such painful-tenderness.
"I wish you luck," Kagome whispered, grasping down at the long
sleeves to her blue kimono, the one that matched the color of her eyes when
they were sad. Even simple compassion had grown to be more than she could
bear.
"I will tell my men." Sesshoumaru was quick, cruel and slashing,
and dimly in the back of his mind he wished to tell her more, he wished to
convey every sentiment, but his character could not allow him to do so. He
could say nothing, and neither could she. Ah, such pain was never felt more
acutely as this.
The image of blue and silver, silent among the hill, their breaths soon forgotten
to the indistinct fog, the light in their eyes gone and extinguished by their
fears that plagued their heart like a merciless angel.
But everything was broken in that moment, the moment that the gravel crunched
with such ferocity that the two seemed jolted out of their own world. And
yet, the two were in another place to begin with that such a disturbance could
only seen strange and unseen. The steps approached with such speed that before
the two could realize it, the figure had pressed upon them.
Sesshoumaru looked down, his eyes momentarily flashing with regret as his
placid face turned temporarily annoyed at the sight of one of his men. The
man himself had a thin layer of moisture atop his brow, and his clothes had
begun to stick to him slightly.
Obvious, he had run far and hard.
"My lord…!" he exclaimed, dropping to a bow, sweat dripping
off his forehead onto the gravel beneath him.
"Yes, what is it?" Sesshoumaru questioned, facing him now his
arms crossed, the familiar air of disdain and assuredness returning like the
northern winds.
"We have captured a group of trespassers from the western encampment!
What do you wish to be done with them?" The man eyed Sesshoumaru anxiously
and squirmed under the harsh watch. The lord was known throughout the lands
as a most vicious and cold-blooded killer.
"Did they resist?" He questioned, slightly alarmed, although not
so much as to display any show of outside emotion. His eyes flickered to Kagome's
face and he held her gaze for an interminable second before wrenching it away.
Now was no time for regret, not with war fast on his heals…
The man shook his head. They had not.
"Bring them to me so that I may see them, and then I shall decide their
fate." Sesshoumaru replied swiftly. He had no time for this. The men
were to leave in less than twenty minutes. Soon the sun would rise from behind
the confounded clouds, and he would be off to face his brother in war.
The man jogged away from them a few yards after bowing curtly. Hollering down
the mountain, he exclaimed, "Bring 'em up, Susumu!"
Kagome, bowing her head, began to move aside back in the direction of the
house. She, like the water she was dressed in, would slip away, unnoticed,
and pool at the bottom of the hill somewhere, eventually, as all things did,
making her way to the great ocean…
I am not needed here. I only get in the way. This is war…I do not belong
here…I only make things more difficult…
"Where do you think you are going?"
She felt his warm fingers wrap around her arm, strongly and firmly. A tingle
rushed through her body and she could feel the conviction in his touch. Looking
up, Kagome whispered, "I was going to—,"
"You are going nowhere. You are staying by my side."
He was solemn, and pulling her onward she noticed that his hand remained on
her arm. Slowly, it traveled down the length of her sleeve until only their
fingers dimly touched, almost invisible to the eye. There was love discrete,
even in public.
"Susumu is bringin' 'em up now, my Lord. I must say, they
were an odd bunch of folk, although maybe they are supposed to seem weird
so we'll trust them." The servant laughed and chuckled while scratching
his stubble in an amused and jovial manner. Such agreeable attitudes in this
situation…
Kagome looked down at her hand, his long tapered nails glinting, and smiled
to herself. He wanted her by his side.
"We shall see." Sesshoumaru answered curtly, his golden eyes flashing
down to Kagome, his mouth forming a slight grin. A second later, however,
a large shape became distinct through the fog, in addition to a general murmur
of voices. A few moments later it became apparent that a large party of trespasser's
had been found.
"How interesting…" Sesshoumaru murmured, his deep voice
filled with interests. Several different scents stung at his nose, that of
a wolf, a fox, and oh, numerous others that he found that he could not discern
almost immediately. This fact disturbed him greatly for there had once been
a time during his life when such a thing would have been easy.
"Sesshoumaru!!" someone hollered.
The youkai's eyes flashed with recognition, and stepping forward in
alarm, he whispered, "No, it can't be…"
But even as he spoke the words, even as they left his mouth, there she appeared.
Rin.
Jumping forward, and unrestrained by the guards, her eyes pricked with tears
that seemed to wash away the mud and the filth on the garments (if they dared
be called that) that she wore.
"Sesshoumaru-sama! I'm really sorry! I fell down the hill and
they thought we were spies, and we needed to get here anyways to tell you
that—,"
Yet she did not finish for her words were cut off by a strangled cry that
soon became a sob and almost instantaneously Sesshoumaru's direction
was turned towards Kagome. What other surprises would they find?
"M-Miroku?!"
Before Sesshoumaru could even formulate words, Kagome jumped forward in a
movement of elegance and grace. There was the crunch of gravel as she ran
towards a distinctly male form. The two embraced in a dull thud. Sesshoumaru
stiffened noticeably but remained calm and restrained, his hand resting atop
Rin's shoulder. There would be time for questions and that time was
now.
"But, how? Why are you here?" Kagome cried, pulling away from
the embrace and wiping the tears from her eyes. But it was no use, the tears
fell without mercy, and her smile could not be extinguished. "I missed
you so much! B-But why are you here? How did you get here?"
Miroku smiled sadly and cupped Kagome's face in his leathered palms
as he rested his forehead gently atop it.
"That is something I am also interested in…" Sesshoumaru
responded, finally, as he eyed Rin with some trepidation, "As I do recall,
you are supposed to be in Kyoto…" His grasp upon her shoulder
became more heavy and his _expression stormy, his displeasure evident; he
waited for his answer.
As it turned out, he would not have to wait long.
Rin jumped forward now, prepared. "But Sesshoumaru! We had to come and
find you! We had to tell you that Naraku—,"
"Is a traitor?" Sesshoumaru whispered, eyes closed as he finished
the sentence, a sudden squall having risen. His hair fluttered in the breeze,
and when his eyes opened again, they were emotionless and dark. "Yes,
I am well aware of exactly who my enemies are."
Everyone inhaled sharply, their breaths caught like time.
Sango, who Kagome had just noticed standing primly behind some rough looking
man she had never seen before, ventured forth, "How did you know…?"
"More precisely," Sesshoumaru questioned, stepping forward, "How
did you?"
All were quiet…and finally, the rugged looking man from the rear spoke
for the first time in his deep, thick resonating voice, "Since no one
else seems to want to do the talking, I'm going to. As it is, we don't
have any time."
"Then do so. The horses and men ride towards the east in twenty minutes."
Sesshoumaru explained, as he, in unmatched interest, allowed his eyes to meander
about the group.
There was Rin, of course, and what appeared to be a fox youkai with sandy
brown hair and a keen _expression on his face standing by her side. Sesshoumaru's
thin lips turned slightly down. That fox was standing a bit too close to Rin
for comfort, but then again, the monk who Kagome had embarrassed so tenderly
still had his hand on her shoulder. His frown deepened even more.
There was the woman, in what appeared to be youkai exterminator clothing (but
he would see to her later) and finally, the man, no, wolf youkai who was speaking
now, his men standing casually behind him.
"My name is Kouga, and I am the leader of the wolf clan in the south.
I'm only here to seek revenge on Naraku who destroyed my homeland. I
met up with these two," he made a broad sweep to the traveling monk
and exterminator, "On my way down to Kyoto to appeal to the Shogun."
Sesshoumaru snorted, "No Shogun would see one who wears pelts for clothes."
The men calmed their leader, who looked as though he would have killed Sesshoumaru
right there in cold blood. From that point on, the wandering monk (who still
had his hand on Kagome's shoulder) continued in his place, "I
am Miroku, advisor to Lord Inuyasha. I was called away when Kagome left his
fortress without permission to aid the Shizuoka prefecture," He took
this moment in time to give Kagome a very disgruntled look, though Sesshoumaru
was almost tempted to smile at Kagome yet again demonstrating her self-sufficient
nature. The monk continued on after a moment, "Where Sango (he motioned
to the exterminator) lives. By the time I got there, Naraku had already kidnapped
her and planted her here."
"And does Inuyasha know of her disappearance? Let alone her whereabouts?"
Sesshoumaru questioned, inquisitiveness only hinted in his voice, although
he was frantic to find this information.
"To the best of our knowledge, no." It was the exterminator or
Sango as she was called, who spoke now.
Miroku continued, "I knew I had to find Kagome. It was my duty, and
so this group was formed (he now pointed to the wolf clan standing a few feet
away). While on the road, we met Rin and Shippou who had met in Kyoto and
were both going to warn you about Naraku's alliance with Inuyasha."
"But it seems like we did all of this for nothing." Kouga, the
wolf youkai snorted, as he kicked some gravel. The group did not argue with
that statement, and the lord was the last person to disagree with them. Yes,
their purpose had been in vain, but they still had other wishes, that he was
sure of…
"Your intentions were honorable, but it would seem fruitless,"
Sesshoumaru sighed deeply, running his hand through his silver locks, "The
war begins in less than ten minutes, we ride at dawn, and only in battle with
the truth be revealed to my brother."
The fog poured in from the hills, and the dim cry of the men far below in
the valley reminded each person that the world continued on, whether or not
there presence was needed.
"Well then…" Shippou spoke for the first time, his voice
full of intent although perhaps not as deep as 'Miroku's'
or 'Kouga's', "Lord Sesshoumaru, I was wondering if
I could stay at your fortress until the war draws to a close."
How very bold, Sesshoumaru thought to himself. It was something he appreciated
in people; to be direct and state the truth, but this was not to say he liked
the annoying fox youkai that stood to close to Rin.
It seemed that the rest of the group seemed rather taken aback with Shippou's
question as well, and they looked at him in incredulity and disbelief. Kouga
chuckled, and Miroku just smirked to himself, although Sango's reaction
was a bit more conservative.
"You realize, that could be months," Sesshoumaru pointed out,
eyeing the sandy haired youkai with some concern. He seemed awfully headstrong,
perhaps too much so.
"I will earn my keep. I am useful." He insisted, stepping forward.
He added, his cheeks turning red, "I wish to stay at Rin's side,
and if this is where she stays, I will do so as well."
Although, Sesshoumaru reasoned, being too bold was often times disconcerting
and off-putting.
Had Sesshoumaru had a reaction, it would have been extraordinary, but as it
was, he turned his head and looked once more towards the wandering monk. He
seemed the only one that had anything intelligent to say, although it was
indeed cumbersome that the youkai's hand seemed to become a permanent
fixture of Kagome's shoulder.
"And what…" Sesshoumaru paused, his gaze fixed on Miroku.
He knew the answer to this question, but nevertheless, it had to be asked,
"Are your intentions?"
"To return to Inuyasha's domain, along with Kagome. She must be
returned before Inuyasha becomes aware of the situation. If he was to find
out…" Miroku's dark chocolate colored eyes met Sesshoumaru's
golden ones, and there was an understanding. Miroku seemed intelligent enough
to have discovered his and Kagome's rapport, and he seemed like the
type of man who took such an occurrence in stride. Yet, duty weighed more
than matters of the heart, and there was no room for mourning.
The monk said no more.
Yes, the answer was there, as was the decision. There was no other path in
and out of this mountain save one, and that was the road that had to be taken,
though it was littered with water and muck, there was no other way.
There is no other way…none. Do not wish for the past.
"Then you and your companions must leave immediately, before my soldiers
take over the surrounding territory and make the journey more difficult."
The voice almost dripped with coldness, iciness and over all disconcert. It
was the ways that all lords presented themselves to those who were lower than
him, and although Sesshoumaru knew he had not convinced Kagome, the rest seemed
satisfied. All save Miroku, who sighed deeply and bowed his head, almost in
regret.
Do not look at her, do not look at her, do not look at her…Sesshoumaru
whispered silently to himself, his golden eyes moving hastily about the group,
hunting an invisible object.
"Feel free to restock on any supplies that you need, but do so quickly.
I have no time for you as it is." And the chase was on, above the tops
of their head, to the ground, to all their faces—except hers, and her
eyes that matched the rain. Sesshoumaru's grip tightened and he motioned
for them to take their leave.
Do not look…do not…
"As for you, Rin, we shall discuss your behavior at a more opportune
moment. Being that I have no guards for you in my absence, you (he nodded
to Shippou) will be her protector. And, foolish boy, if she so much has a
scratch, you shall be torn limb from limb. That is a promise." And finally,
he resigned to this chase, for he had long grown bored with it. Instead, he
closed his eyes and blocked out the world of whiteness into one of black.
If you look, you shall become weak. You are strong. You are Sesshoumaru, Lord
of the Western Lands, and you will not be defeated by the mere sight of a
woman…
"Now leave, restock, and take whatever provisions that you need. I have
grown tired of your presence already." It was true. He was tired of
covering his tracks through the snow when he himself found the whole thing
absurd. Yes, he was a lord, yes, he held power like the neck of a human—but
when it came to matters of his heart, well, indeed, there was when the hunters
found him and stripped him off all self-dignity.
Perhaps she will follow them as well.
Sesshoumaru hardly heard the thanks and the heartfelt gratitude that all expressed,
Kagome having blended amongst them, her head turned down; a lily of the valley
amongst the weeds. She was probably fighting back tears. Never once had he
been so…so nice. Yes, there was no other word for it, he had been nice.
For probably the first and last time in his life, he had allowed himself to
fall prey to such an emotion. Why? Because he wanted her to leave. He didn't
want to see her face ever again.
Why?
Because if he ignored her…
Perhaps I can forget…perhaps I will forget her face by the end of it…
Damn. There was no escape. He was being chased, swiftly, by an invisible enemy.
It was there, on his doorstep, looking up at him with hypnotic eyes, usually
cerulean, but now gray. She had blended with the weather, becoming more subtle
and concealed. And damn it all, he had fallen for it.
His plan had not worked. She remained. By his side.
But somehow, he would have it no other way.
Forcing himself, he looked at her, her head bowed down, her hair falling over
her shoulder revealing her pale skin on the back of her neck.
"So…" She said, softly, her voice the sound of rain, "This
is the end…"
"It is the end." He repeated.
"And we shall see each other no more." She continued on. "What
we had shall be forgotten."
She looked up now, and he was startled to see her eyes dry.
"The tears will come later," she explained, almost harshly, almost
with regret.
To cry over him? Was such a thing worth it?
"I will remember." Sesshoumaru began, looking down at her, his
emotionless face giving nothing away. Not a stone out of line, not a brick
out of place. He was impassive, cold and unforgiving, at least, on the surface.
"I will tell myself not to do so…but you will haunt me. I do not
ignore my weaknesses."
The two were quiet, and for a moment it was only them on that foggy mountainside.
It was their world, their world of whiteness and sorrow. There was only the
pure colorless world that surrounded them.
But then, the wind blew from the east, and with that wind came the footsteps
of the returned party. Time was playing tricks on them. A minute was ten,
a second a minute.
The party was fast, as Sesshoumaru had instructed them so. He liked his pain
quick and to the point, and now, the hurt was to end and he would only suffer
for the rest of his days. What was an eternity of pain? Nothing. It only proved
your worth.
"Come, Kagome, let's go!" Miroku called, wearing a deep
brown coat over his attire, one he had taken from Sesshoumaru's stock.
Sango, dressed in similar earth tones, looked back at her. She knew, for she
was a female too, what had happened on this hill and what was about to become
undone. The red string of fate was unraveling and becoming tighter by the
moment.
Kouga and his men arrived now; their nearly acquired satchels full of provisions,
and smiles have sprouted upon their tired and dirtied faces.
"What are we waiting for?" the leader called to Sesshoumaru and
Kagome from across the courtyard. Motioning to Kagome, he set off towards
the directed path.
"Come." Sango called almost sternly to Kouga, the leader, "She
will catch up. We have brought her clothes to change into, but she must say
her goodbyes."
Kagome shivered. She hated such a word. Goodbye. As if saying farewell could
ever be filled with happiness. Goodbye.
Miroku nodded and motioned Kouga and his men forward, "We will wait
for you at the bottom of the hill. But Kagome, don't take long."
His eyes were sad as he left…
Looking after them, she nodded quickly and watched them as they followed a
small path that hung at the edge of the mountain until it reached a small
creek bed. There, at the water, would she meet them.
The footsteps had almost died away, and glancing up at Sesshoumaru she found
that he had not taken his eyes off of her.
But she could say nothing. There was nothing to do, nothing to say.
It seemed as though their time for goodbyes was over, and dimly, Kagome thought
of the piece of paper that lay atop his cypress desk and would meet him upon
his return to his domain. Whether or not the war was in his favor, he would
find that piece of parchment…
Within that folded piece of paper was everything she wished to say, but could
not. Those strokes and characters were insufficient, as were her own words.
In fact, there seemed to be nothing in the world to describe such an emotion,
but such was life. Surely, Sesshoumaru could understand, and she hoped that
what she had managed to spill out, in-between tears and long periods of recovery
would make sense.
Her fingers desperately felt for the piece of amber colored glass about her
neck, cool to the touch, and clutching it, she whispered something in his
ear.
A smile tore at his lips, a true smile, the first and last Kagome was to ever
see, as though he was trying to hide any bliss within his soul. She felt his
arms gently wound about her body and hold her softly as though she was something
precious and fragile to him. Kagome wanted to remember this moment until her
death, for none could replace his arms, his scent, his eyes…to her;
she was his…and no other. Even if life was to continue on, even if Inuyasha
should take the place, as the one she shared her bed with, even if she should
have children, grow old and frail and weak, she would retain these memories
to the last…she could not disperse of them. Without them, she was incomplete,
just a shell, hallow and cold and emotionless.
The two stayed like that for some time, though hardly long enough, Kagome's
head buried against his chest and listening to the beating of his heart. Sesshoumaru,
his head knelt against hers, tried to remember her scent and let it become
an ingrained part of his being.
She pulled away, slowly, and from within the folds of her kimono she produced
a necklace. A stone, the color of her eyes, glinted on a chain. It was the
twin of that which she wore about her neck, and dimly, although unwillingly,
her thoughts fled back to that night…the night at the temple, their
world aglow with lights of dreams and reality. Sesshoumaru felt her lean forward,
her weight pressed against his body, and stand upon her toes as she clasped
the necklace around his neck.
And then, he snapped.
All self-control was lost…
Sesshoumaru was standing very still, almost as if he were afraid that if he
moved, he would scare Kagome away. His chest shuddered as he let out a breath
he'd been holding so long that it had made him dizzy, and the breath
misted between them. The fog around them would not dissipate and it only seemed
to grow thicker now in this moment of solitude. Kagome smiled delicately and
moved closer so that Sesshoumaru felt against his lips, and then he pressed
closer.
Very fragile, it was given an otherworldly cast in the swirling fog that threatened
to spirit them away.
Kagome's eyes widened and then closed slowly at the first brush of Sesshoumaru's
tongue against her lower lip, and she finally moved, responding to something
she had at first not known how to react to. The darkness and hunger that he
had felt within his body for so long was overcome by her love, by her scent,
by her passion that she too held. Sesshoumaru opened his mouth even further
and held Kagome even closer, eyes closed now, breathing faster, almost nervous.
He craned his neck father, deeper into her…
It wasn't a long kiss, just an exposed taste, and then Kagome was pulling
away, the tip of her tongue brushing his own lips in a subconscious effort
to prolong it. And yet, the end was inevitable as the sun.
The valley was torn apart in that moment. Time had stopped.
And it began again. So fast and so sudden that both were caught off guard
in a swirl of emotions and reality. The time had come…
Each jumped back in surprise as the echo of a gunshot ricocheted throughout
the hills. It echoed, softly…softly…until it disappeared.
A drop landed on Kagome's arm and as Sesshoumaru's cheek. They
slid down their skin with maddening slowness, the first tears of the war…and
neither wiped them away, but instead allowed them to dry and become absorbed,
as all would eventually be.
It was beginning to rain once again. The drop of confusion and chaos turning
into drops, and finally, the downpour.
Turning, Kagome tore herself form his side and walked a few feet and glanced
back. Her heart had yet to calm from their embrace, and her lips were swollen
and red. Grasping her necklace, she shivered. She could still feel his lips
against her own, his arms about her. Even from such a distance his gaze still
saw through her soul and all its workings and desires. He was still there,
watching her go, an agonized expression upon his face, one she would never
see again. She would never see that face; those eyes in such a way…for
only the greatest sorrow could have been the cause.
The drops came down harder and harder, and she was grateful. One after another
fell atop her, coating her skin, her clothes, her hair, her eyes…but
it was no use…she had lied; the tears would not come later. They were
already starting now. She was thankful for the rain, only the hint of redness
about her eyes gave away her heart.
When you awaken in the dream, I want to gently watch over you
In a part of the future always be with me.
Sesshoumaru watched her turn that last time, the rain and water pelting down
against her thin form, the silks of her kimono plastered against her side.
She stumbled once, and nearly fell again. He was tempted to run out and help
her, to catch her from the fall, and yet, he paused and shuddered.
This was the end.
"Good bye," he found himself whispering in an unsteady and hoarse
voice, his firsts clench as though to hold his body together. He was being
torn apart.
Kagome turned towards her destination and this time, she did not look back.
Her gray eyes squinted in the dim that slowly gave way to a sickly color of
dawn. The sun was slowly rising over the mountains, casting the world into
strange and fantastical shadows and realms. A sob rose from her throat, and
folding her hands against her mouth, she stumbled and continued on, determined
to never look back.
Sesshoumaru watched as Kagome, the only love he would ever know as slipped
into the mists. He turned away, his head fallen in exhaustion, to hide the
sentiment that nearly overflowed from his eyes. Trembling, the final voice
was erased as he mourned over unforgivable sins. Fleeting dreams, sad dreams,
painful dreams announce the end…into kind dreams, into lovely dreams,
like that day, like that time...
Bathed in the cold wind
Imagining these feelings night after night
The melody I hum softly
Is etched in time and
disappears
I can't forget the sadness that will I can never go back
Even now I can't dye myself with these swaying emotions and my body
Is about to break...
***
**
*
AN: THIS STORY IS NOT OVER.
Far from it. Truth be told.
Want to know what the hell the battle plans Sesshoumaru was talking about?
Or at least have a general idea for the map? Check out this link:
http:// www .geocities. com / furinkoto_neko /map
(I put spaces in so u could actually SEE the link…so, just take em
out and paste!)
(and also it is on the bio page)
Also, side notes:
Tanuki is a raccoon thing and a kitsune is a fox, both known for being cunning
and mischievous in Japanese (as well as western) mythology.
Yeah. Soooo. Anyways….bet y'all r gunna hate me for that one,
ne? ^^;; oh well. Are you guys crying? That was my goal, but I don't
know if I succeeded.
Also, I would like to add that…..there are some lines (including the
last bit in italicization) that are taken from the lovely, talented and DAMN
Sexy Gackt. Just wanted to make that clear.
Read, review, say "Boo hoo!"
