AN: As of late, getting these chapters has become harder and harder to write. I don't know if it is the "get it over with NOW" mode kicking in, as it usually does when I reach the ends of a story. Maybe it is the "Ah, screw it" mentality. Or, maybe it is the "Goodness, this is hard…I don't know if I can do this…" attitude. Whatever it is, I am trying my best to over-ride all such emotions to make these last few chapters memorable and good.
Fluffyscatdemon: You will have to see about the pairing. I have not said it, and it won't be said until the very last chapter. You gotta wait. ;;
Anime Redneck: You'll find out, partially, in this chapter…
Sissi: (answered above)
Deva: You won't really find out what she whispered. But it is hinted, later on. Thanks for reminding me about that…;; I have so many things to keep track of!
Sashlea: Yes. Sort of. You'll see.
(and as always, thanks TaskinLude for being a wonderful beta and friend! :3)
Chapter 32
Shadows Against a Shoji Screen
Snake in the Grass
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The war had started the day before, but already it seemed like an eternity. A milk-white eternity; devoid of any color, any feeling—just that blankness that came with lack of emotion. The world was darker, even with the midday sun shining down upon all, revealing all. The earth seemed shaded and cold, even safely nestled besides the banks of a happily gurgling stream in the foothills. Amongst the waist high grasses the morning sun shone contentedly onto Sesshoumaru's backside, and adjusting his formal posture, he scooted into the shade of a giant camphor tree with its dark green leaves burned by the sun's rays of the deep summer. Perhaps, sitting in the subterranean shade, he wished to be in the gloom as well.
That was the only place war could live, in the darkest hearts of men. That was the only place war was allowed to live. Sesshoumaru knew this, having held such company for many long, troubled years.
Sesshoumaru, the lord of the western lands, sighed and closed his eyes slowly. He was tired, no, not even that. He was exhausted. He had not slept in forty-eight hours. Even with his youkai body, he could feel his concentration waning.
Besides being fatigued, things weren't going well. He felt as though he was being pulled back at every obstacle that he wished to face—his brother, Naraku, this bloody war in general: he wanted it over, done, complete, just something that one would read about in history books.
But hardly a minute could be spared now, so much needed to be done, and here he was, sitting on the side of a perfectly innocent brook, waiting for this mysterious man named Miroku to catch a fish so that they could have some lunch, if he dare call it that. It was more like breakfast to him.
'Miroku' looked up, his dark hair falling in front of his russet eyes, for; somewhere along the way the advisor had lost his hair-tie, which, he was beginning to find rather annoying. The sun was not hot, but uncomfortably warm, and unfortunately, there was no shade on his side of the small grassy creek.
It was a fairly clear day, although large grey-bottomed clouds sped hurriedly across the horizon, as though there was a hidden destination they wished to find. Some would have thought the storm to be over, the rain all gone and washed away—but those acquainted with the weather knew that this was not the case. These clouds were deceiving, yes, like the make-up of a Kabuki actor; one could not really see the true face of the person…
Perhaps the worst part still remained.
Sighing, Miroku shaded his eyes and glanced at the lord of the western lands. Now, upon seeing this famed youkai for the first time, he could truly see the resemblance between the two dog demons. Yes, it was evident, not only in the hair and eye-color, but in the general body and frame. These two were cut from the same cloth indeed, and it was the finest material.
Sesshoumaru had been the last person Miroku had expected to come upon in this great torrent of blood and sweat. But then again, he had never expected to be in this situation in the first place. After all, hadn't it been only this morning that he had parted from the group, traveling away with Sango? Hadn't he promised his wife that they would face everything together to ensure survival?
And what of it now, hm? Where had it all gone?
It had turned into shit, that was what it had done…and there was nothing that Miroku could do at the moment, there was no way he could find his wife among the wreck of warfare, there was no way. Fighting back a sigh, Miroku looked down into the quickly flowing waters of the brook and tried to discern if there were any fish about. Every now and then the stream caught the light of the sun and flashed, almost like a signal, into his eyes. When the two had first camped at this spot, there had been many feeding about the edges of the bank. But, it seemed, as soon as Miroku had constructed a make-shift fishing pole they all vanished, as though he was the plague.
Damn those smart fish.
Grumbling something underneath his breath about the lack of stupid animals in the world, Miroku adjusted his position considering that his bottom was beginning to get sore.
Sesshoumaru, looking calm, princely, and cool (as he often did) was staring at him now, this at least Miroku could recognize. He didn't want to be mad at the youkai; after all, he had saved him from dying out there in that god-forsaken battle field. But why did the youkai have to look so smug? Was it impossible for this creature to look disturbed or angry…or anything…?
Perhaps this was not the nature of the demon, Miroku thought oddly. After all, although the two brothers were of the same material they were not necessarily the same pattern. Sesshoumaru was a more subdue serious shade, while his brother, Inuyasha came in hues of red and gold, blue and green—bright, cheerful, brazen colors.
"Is something bothering you?"
He nearly jumped when he heard those words, and grasping his chest, he exclaimed, "Don't do that!"
"Not really, no." Miroku admitted with a delayed reaction bobbing about the fishing pole in the crystal clear mountain water.
The youkai did not seem very worried about scaring the living daylights out of him, but continued to sit with satisfaction amongst the high-growing grasses under the shade of the giant tree above him. The youkai was practically hidden in those tall stalks, their tips now gone to seed; it was after all, late summer, and soon the warm lingering days of autumn would be upon them all, and then the stark whiteness of winter.
Perhaps winter was the finest season of all; it was a season for planning, of solitude, of reflection…unlike spring and summer and autumn where there was always activity, never a moment's rest, always this constant churn of emotions and actions building and forming together until it almost became unbearable. Yes, Miroku decided, winter was a fine season, a fine season indeed…
Shifting his shoulders about moodily, Miroku thought that some conversation would do both of them much good. Maybe he could get a few things off his chest, and iron out some wrinkles in this whole conflict; then things would be…better, perhaps. After all, everything was so very confusing, and it would be simpler if there weren't so many mysteries. Mysteries only created confusion, and confusion only created panic.
Miroku wasn't quite sure where he came up with the notion, and perhaps it was foolish as well…but it seemed as though Sesshoumaru wished for this conflict to come to an end as soon as possible. Although every element in his body seemed against the fact that this ruthless warrior Sesshoumaru wished for this war to end—it seemed as though something about the youkai had changed. He no longer personified that killing blade he was known for, he did not seem as heartless and cruel as all the legends proclaimed: if anything he seemed emotionless, but…besides that, Miroku could see no hatred.
After all, would a hell-sent demon save him, a human, from the brinks of death?
Maybe this new 'tactic' would work; maybe he could pull something from the lips of Sesshoumaru, and find worthwhile information. Maybe waiting in the watery depths of both the youkai and the stream, he would find something, anything, anything that would help. "But, now that you mention it, I am rather upset."
The youkai made no reply, but instead seemed to be studying a very interesting blade of grass. It was a lovely green shade, yellowish, almost—new and sparkling, which was rare for a mid-August day… Miroku only deepened his scowl and heaved another heavy sigh. Well, it seemed there was to be no conversation.... Moving onto their lunch…or rather, their lack of lunch…
"I'm listening," a cool impersonal voice replied as it drifted across the waterway and towards Miroku. Sesshoumaru had not even moved, and was still studying that confounded piece of grass—but for a moment his eyes swiveled to Miroku's form, only long enough to acknowledge the advisor, before returning once again to the grass, and then, eventually the blue dappled sky over-head.
The advisor glanced up and then quickly looked down at his feet. He could tell he was being made a fool of, and Sesshoumaru did it with such grace that most people wouldn't have a clue.
Hell if you're listening, Miroku thought silently to himself. He didn't know why he was upset, Sesshoumaru wasn't trying to be obnoxious, but somehow, Miroku found himself in a bad humor. Nothing had gone right at all. In fact nothing had gone right for the past few months. At first, he thought he had the strength to overcome, and there had even been happiness with Sango…but now…who the hell even knew anymore?
"I don't know what to do anymore," Miroku found himself saying unconsciously, even before the words had left his mouth. It was not like him to be so open, at least with his follies. Yes, he could talk about his victories easy enough…but his downfalls, ah, that was another matter…
Sesshoumaru said nothing, but only shifted his position so that his golden eyes were staring intently into the innocently burbling stream. He, it seemed, had a lot on his mind too. Then again, it was Sesshoumaru, the leader of those from the west—of course he was preoccupied. The two of them where in the middle of a war, even here, surrounded by the beauty of nature.
Miroku noticed the sapphire pendant that hung off his neck as it glimmered in the sunlight, but somehow, it didn't register.
"I'm sitting here with you, and it would be so easy to call you the enemy." He spat bitterly, his grip tightening on the fishing-rod.
"Yet I am not the enemy, no more than you are," Sesshoumaru replied coolly, not even bothering to looking up from the stream bed.
"Yes, well, it will be oh so easy to go and explain that to Inuyasha," Miroku responded sarcastically, setting aside the fishing pole and waiving his arms about, almost frantically. He really hadn't gotten enough sleep for the past couple of…months now. "Yes, I'll just walk up to Inuyasha, while he is in the middle of a bloody war, against you I might add, and say, 'Oh. Yes. You see, Sesshoumaru? Well, he isn't all that bad after all!'"
Sesshoumaru chuckled and added darkly, "This Sesshoumaru also saved you from death by suffocation, which seems rather unpleasant."
Miroku just cast him a scathing look before crossing his arms, though rather slowly at that, considering that his wound was still quite tender and delicate.
Sesshoumaru, his head still bent down towards the stream did not reply, but instead flexed his claws, as though he was about to attack. Miroku began to feel sweat form on the back of his neck…maybe it was better not to make a youkai angry after all, although a hanyou was bad enough.
Suddenly, there was a flash of silver and gold and cowering in fear, Miroku practically curled into a ball. But, when no pain came to his organs, and when he still felt his arm attached to his shoulder, he breathed a sigh of relief and opened his eyes, only to find that Sesshoumaru was holding two writhing fish in each hand.
"The fishing pole did not seem to be doing any use," he shrugged nonchalantly as he tossed the fish to Miroku. The advisor supposed that he was supposed to clean them, and diligently found his knife from one of the recesses of his pack.
The day was soon growing to be quite fair and it even made the two travelers fall into a false state of contentment and solitude…the birds' songs somehow seemed sweeter and softer away from civilization. The babbling of the brook played a melody that both the travelers knew, and the trees above danced in the gentle wind that seemed only created for that one purpose of ease.
It had taken Miroku some time to construct a fire, being that there was a severe lack of dry wood, considering that the whole hill had been practically flooded yesterday afternoon. Yet, in the end, he had found some tucked away in a hollow beneath a tree some quarter mile off in a nice elevated meadow. As the advisor had wandered off, he had half expected Sesshoumaru to have abandoned him upon his return and him being stuck, out in the wilderness without a clue on how to get to the Shikon no Tama shrine. In fact, he didn't really know where he was.
A sweat had begun to form on the back of his neck again, out there amongst the tall grass, and he had grown quite nervous indeed and had almost jogged back to the creek just to ensure that Sesshoumaru would still be there upon his return. He had only two days to get to the shrine, or else, and this Miroku knew, there would be more than just this war lost forever upon the delicacy of the red string of fate.
Yet to his utter amazement and perhaps joy, Sesshoumaru's figure still remained, calmly shaded beneath the great leaves of the camphor tree and Miroku found himself smiling. Perhaps Sesshoumaru was not as bad as all the rumors said. In fact, perhaps he was even less fearful. But then again, Miroku thought dubiously, there could have been other reasons for his suddenly mild nature. Often times, love did that to a person, and she was but two days away, not yet forgotten in his mind. Come next year, Sesshoumaru the feared ruler of the western lands, would strike again and his would deserve his name to be written in blood once more.
At the moment, Miroku was flabbergasted when he returned to their (dare he call it 'camp'?) only to find that Sesshoumaru was quite willingly asleep against the side of the accommodating tree. Miroku nearly wanted to start laughing aloud, but had to clamp his hand upon his mouth to stop the effort. It was only then that for the first time he saw the translucent quality to the youkai's skin and the deep dark and well-camouflaged circles beneath his eyes.
Concern did not flood through Miroku, nor anxiety, but more a nervous feeling. He had no connection to this youkai; in fact he hardly knew the soul. But, Miroku understood that if this youkai did not receive rest soon then he would become easy prey to the war, for so many other things seemed to battling for control within him.
Miroku eventually decided to leave sleeping youkai be, and settled down to start building a fire so that they could finally eat. They had been at this creek for some time now, and already it seemed past the midday hour.
By the time the fish was ready, Sesshoumaru had still not awoken and Miroku debated on what to do. On one hand, he could just leave the fish out in front of him, or he could wake him up, or…
"I am awake, you know," Sesshoumaru whispered slightly, only his lips moving, a slight frown tugging at them.
Miroku was startled, but did not let it show, and quickly replied, "Yes, I knew you were."
"Indeed?" the youkai quipped as he adjusted his posture and sat up, opening his golden eyes to give an omnipotent glare to the advisor.
The two ate their meal in silence, under the shade of the camphor tree; neither particularly enjoyed the fish, but it gave them strength which was all they were looking to find.
By the time that Miroku had finished his fish, the advisor felt as though he could finally discuss with Sesshoumaru the 'rub' of the matter. What he proposed to talk about was neither easy nor comfortable, but he could not let it go unsaid.
It was not in his nature.
As the two slowly walked towards their grazing horses, Miroku began hesitantly, "So, Sesshoumaru, what is your aim in this war? Are you still determined to get Inuyasha's sword?"
Sesshoumaru said nothing for a time, but instead looked up into the alluring blue sky with a deep expression of contemplation upon his delicate features. After a time, he replied slowly, as though he was still unsure of the answer, "I do not know what I am after."
Miroku came to a halt and nearly gasped, "Then you aren't after the sword anymore?"
Sesshoumaru, who has paused as well, glanced over his shoulder and sighed, "I don't know."
Miroku chose this time to smirk knowingly and retorted, "Hmm, Kagome has changed you, hasn't she?"
Sesshoumaru's features grew still and pensive and the advisor noticed as the youkai's clawed hand reached down for the hilt to his sword where he gripped the handle tentatively. Sesshoumaru's eyes, now a dark stormy auburn, gave away all his displeasure and Miroku realized that he had taken the conversation one step too far. Obviously, Lady Kagome was forbidden territory.
"Understand this, advisor to Inuyasha, just because I did not kill you does not mean I do not contemplate it." His eyes glinted, whether in anger or the affects of the sun Miroku did not know, and he continued bitterly, "The offer of your blood is still tempting, I do not deny this. But, whether through change of heart or temperament, I want this war to end as soon as possible." He paused, and licked his thin pink lips tentatively and finished resentfully, "But if you so much as mention any correlation between Lady Kagome and I again, understand this fool, I will have your tongue."
Miroku gulped, but still found himself grinning, despite the extremely real threat that Sesshoumaru had just made exceedingly clear. So, it seemed as though he had been right in the first place—it had been Kagome all along who had brought this change upon the lord. But, perhaps more so than that, it may have been the combination of maturity and love that gave him reason to end this long and bloody warfare.
"I understand your words exactly," Miroku nodded sternly, as he continued to walk towards their horses at the top of a sloping hill, the grasses billowing like a sea and crashing against their legs.
Sesshoumaru did not leave his spot at first, but watched in condescension and Miroku continued his way up the hill.
Whether or not it was Kagome, or just circumstances beyond my control, my decision remains unwavering—this war needs to come to a finish as soon as possible, and the only way to do so is to kill the master of ceremonies, Naraku…
By the time the two reached the horses, Miroku had fairly recovered from that warning, and had decided to attempt to talk to the proud demon lord again. Before they reached their destination—the shrine of the Shikon no Tama, Miroku wanted to have this youkai's word that upon meeting Inuyasha in war, the youkai would not kill his hanyou half brother. To defeat Naraku, the snake that he was, there had to be utter stillness until the attack was eminent.
The horses trotted amiably back to the road some half mile away, and taking this time, Miroku began again, "I'm sorry if I offended you back there."
Sesshoumaru said nothing and only looked straight ahead. It didn't even appear as though he was listening.
"I was wondering Sesshoumaru, what do you know of this warlord named Naraku?"
Sesshoumaru immediately swiveled his head and his eyes held an emotion that Miroku could not quite read. It was a mixture of hatred, indifference, and fear. Yet, in seemed almost impossible that Sesshoumaru could be afraid of anything—no, Miroku decided, it must have been the affects of the dappled lighting that gave his golden eyes that emotion.
The advisor's face became serious as well, and he questioned softly, so softly that it could hardly be heard above the trotting of the horses, "I take it that you know of this person then?"
Sesshoumaru's eyes returned straight forward and his lips seemed sealed as though he refused to answer neither a yes or no.
Miroku grimaced. The lord of the western lands had been famed for being quite stoic and this only proved those rumors true. This now required him to dig deeper until he got his desired answer. Miroku knew well and good that this lord had claimed an alliance with the dark warlord; it had been a rumor spreading about the countryside for quite a few months. In addition, Sango had also revealed this information to him in private during one of their brief periods of rest.
"Come, come now, Sesshoumaru. Whether or not you may be in an alliance with him makes no difference to me whatsoever."
Sesshoumaru quickened the speed of his mare and Miroku chuckled to himself. This man was as silent as a clam.
The day was steadily growing overcast. The storm was moving quickly and successfully over the country once again and by tomorrow the world would be smeared with at least a few centimeters of water. There would be flooding to be sure. It was most unfortunate that the rain should return on the third day, Miroku admitted darkly. The third day to this war would be the most critical. Come tomorrow, Miroku would be able to reach the shrine of the Shikon no Tama, and to once again be at Sango's side.
Their separation had not been planned; in fact they had never premeditated on parting. Yet, the world had a way of turning upside in an instant. It was strange how now, under this beautiful sky, the nature of things seemed so beautiful and tranquil, while at other times there was blood and tears.
The two of them had managed to steal a pair of horses that they found grazing by the side of the road—the two men, officers it seemed, were down by the banks of the river cleaning out their clothes. By the time the two dolts had realized the horses were stolen they were about a quarter-mile off and out of danger, at least, this was what they presumed.
However the road had been blocked by a large pulsating mass of bodies. The war had erupted yet again amongst the calm and golden-rimmed reality. The two had fled into the woods, hoping to avoid the clash, but some how they had no such luck. Miroku's horse had misjudged a jump and had plunged into the ground, twisting its leg. If that had not been worse, a muted blast of a cannon had echoed through the still forest and before Miroku could even grab the reigns, his horse had taken off as it limped into the wilds.
It was only Sango, him, and the remaining horse.
Still, there was still hope. The sun had only risen and a long day lay before them. Miroku mounted his wife's horse and the two of them sped off down the road, the echo of cannons and bone chilling screams blazing on their heels as though the past and death were slowly catching up to them, one step at a time.
The two had ridden for some hours by then, making their way slowly, ever slowly, to the shrine of the Shikon no Tama, where, somehow, Miroku hoped that he would meet Inuyasha and be able to resolve this whole conflict. He had to ensure that Inuyasha did nothing brazen, especially regarding Naraku. Inuyasha was naturally unashamed however…
"Naraku is my ally, yes."
Sesshoumaru was speaking quietly, now, his voice cold and detached as it often was—but he looked dangerous, as though at any moment he might lash out against the world, or maybe just Miroku.
"But I plan that by the end of this war he shall be my only enemy."
Miroku, in all earnest, stated, "I thought Inuyasha was your enemy."
The silver-haired lord scoffed, "Inuyasha is hardly my enemy more so than you are. I care for neither. Whatever that foolish hanyou does is none of my concern—unless it affects the people of my land."
Miroku, put off, questioned, "But what of his sword? What of you murdering—,"
Sesshoumaru glanced at him now and spat, "Who have I murdered?" He was angry and irritable, as though Miroku had turned into a pesky fly.
"Some lover of Inuyasha a long time ago," Miroku stated, wondering why he had to repeat this fact, "This is why Inuyasha goes to war with you. Didn't you know?"
The two had reached the road, finally, and the crunch of gravel beneath their feet nearly drowned out any form of communication, yet, Miroku managed to catch, only distantly…
"I have killed no human woman in my lifetime. Youkai, yes, but never a female human. I do not sink as low as that."
The world stopped. The sky, the clouds, the trees, the leaves—all seemed still to the ears of Miroku. Blinking in surprise, he questioned seriously, as solemn as the innocent deaths of this war, "And do you swear upon that, Sesshoumaru?"
Sesshoumaru, perhaps not realizing the full impact of his words replied quite off-handedly, "If swearing is what it takes to make you believe me, than I do so."
Off in the distance, a slow thin curl of smoke rose in the horizon, a division between this world and the next, between reality and imagination, a border, Miroku thought sadly, that Inuyasha had to cross before these tragic affairs would finally come to a close. He did not know how it happened, or who was in charge of the mischief, but the advisor had a feeling in the pit of his stomach…it could be none other than that sly underhanded snake. The warlord known as Naraku…
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The inky pine trees had grown sparse towards the bank of the rushing mountain stream. The dirt, red and speckled with flooded grass, glinted in the light of the midday. Clouds were hanging low over the mountains, and it was possible, or so it seemed, to brush their dark bottoms with finger tips.
The group of travelers had received their horses with only a small amount of trouble from the old hermit who lived at the summit. Kagome had to admit that she had been pleasantly surprised with Kouga's unpolished, if not successful, negotiation skills. The company had only been delayed a half an hour, enough time to laden the horses, quickly eat something substantial, and, most importantly, rest their tired feet.
Kagome, glad she was finally upon a horse, allowed her posture to lax and silently exhaled a deep sigh. She would be the last to admit she was physically exhausted—she could not allow the group to slow because of her. The success of their mission depended on their timely retreat.
Looking up into the gloriously blue sky, Kagome noticed that Kouga's grey speckled mare had now pulled up along side of her where the trail had widened.
Glancing towards him, Kagome smiled softly. Although Kouga wasn't the most delicate person, she admitted now that she had been wrong in her previous judgment. There had been no insult intended in his words or actions. Looking back at yesterday and the day before, it only seemed a steady blur of rain and emotions all flooded precariously about her.
She fingered her worn leather reigns nervously, and then, glancing up at the leader of the wolf-clan she found that he was staring at her with a look of fascination, much like he had been doing earlier.
Perhaps he hadn't much contact with females, especially human females.
The wind almost carried her words from out her mouth, but she managed earnestly, "I'm sorry."
Kouga reacted almost immediately, a small sly grin erupting from his features, and he coughed slightly and questioned, "Oh? Are you now?"
Deciding (but only temporarily) to not let her temper flare, she coughed, annoyed, and replied, "Yes. I was upset and I was treating you unfairly."
Kouga continued to smirk, but said nothing. Kagome did not notice the strange gleam which had over-taken his eyes; she was too interested in looking at the beautiful landscape about them.
From this summit they were able to see three hundred and sixty degrees about. They were walking at the very tops of these mountains, a trail that ran parallel to the range and for a mile or so, to the river, where, they would eventually turn down and begin their ascent. Yet, up amid the inky-pines, the soft-rimmed clouds, and the camellia-scented day, she felt truly at peace. In the wisteria-blossomed valleys, which now surrounded her on either side, if war should be happening she was blissfully unaware. This high, dancing with the clouds, it was impossible to tell of the wreckage and deceit of men…that was, if she never inspected closely.
The wind was cool and cut through her clothing; through her flesh and straight to her soul where it cooled her agitated nerves. The clouds billowing by, growing more numerous with each passing hour, were calming in their movements, to her, singing a lullaby. The larks and sparrows chirped softly in the background, and the steady movements of the horse beneath her began to lull her into the world of soft lavender fantasy…
Before she knew it, she had fallen, most contentedly asleep…
It only took Kouga a few moments to notice her state, and quickly he jumped off his horse and walked alongside Kagome's beast before pausing for half a moment. His dark eyes flashed, and he smiled softly. The next minute he found his weathered hands wrapped about Kagome's slim waist as he led the horse down the mountain side.
Gods, if this is happiness, Kouga thought ruefully gazing into the horizon, may it never end…
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Kagome awoke to the sounds of whispers and something warm pressed against one half of her body. Looking up, she found that it was perhaps two hours past midday. Much to her surprise, she found that she was not on the horse, but instead resting on a shaded part of a particularly steep hill. The long damp grasses was billowing about her form, and looking through the haze of green, Kagome found Kouga staring at her, his finger pressed tightly to her lips.
"What's happening?" she whispered, moving her body slightly, so that she could more comfortably be seated.
Kouga glanced up the slope of the hill, his eyes reflecting the sea of endless green. Finally, he replied, his voice harsh and bitter, "There's an approaching army down there, taking the back road."
More awake now, by his words more so than the cold air, she whispered hurriedly, "But who's? Inuyasha's? Se…Sesshoumaru's?"
Kouga shook his head and leaned over on his side to find his brass viewfinder, much worn with age and care. He held it tightly in his calloused hands before finally, and with great regret, passing it into Kagome's realm.
"See for yourself, Lady." He grumbled, as he began to scoot his way up the ascent to the top of the mound.
Kagome paused for a minute and clenched the metal to her chest. Her eyes were wide in fury and fear. If not Inuyasha or Sesshoumaru, then, that left only one other person…a person she had wished to avoid at all costs, for with him, came the scent of death and war, more deadly and treacherous than could ever be imagined…
Slowly, she grasped at the wet earth, finding its ways under her fingertips, but, resolutely, she continued up. It took her only a few minutes, but when she reached the crest her breath was caught in her throat. Never before had she witnessed such a beautifully heartbreaking scene…
Describing it would do no justice, but it can only be attempted. The gently rolling mounds of the foothills slowly, in a trance, it seemed, from being blown by the storm's breeze made it a scene of great motion and infinite stillness. The yellow-green forms tapered down gently into the warm colors of the meadows and filled with late flowering red and gold flowers. Yet, from high atop the hill, all was small, a blur, just a reflection of a memory.
And then, so dense, so thick…like a river, a form moved. It at first took a moment for Kagome to realize that the snake-like object was actually moving. Extending the spy-glass, Kagome gasped when she found that it was people who made up this purple-blue shape.
"B-But it is humongous! Look at there numbers! There is no chance for…" She stopped herself, and forced her body to remain calm. She had to be composed in situations such as these.
With quivering fingers, she held the spy-glass as steadily as she could manage and searched for the family crest. Her heart sank with knowing when she saw the black-painted narcissus…the crest of the warlord Naraku. She, at least, knew this much…
"Where are they going?" Kagome snapped up suddenly, closing the spyglass and making her way down to the base of the steep hill.
Kouga, following her, sighed and admitted, "There is only one place they could be heading…"
"Which is?" Kagome urged, returning the instrument to Kouga and quickly making their way to the horses, which she had spotted earlier, grazing at the edge of the dense forest.
"If they plan to attack Inuyasha, they wouldn't make it in time," Kouga explained after a moment, seeing something in Kagome's eyes which made him understand that she would be able to adjust to the information which came next. "This means, Kagome, that this army is meant to attack Sesshoumaru…"
Kagome said nothing, but only listened, her blue eyes hard and stony.
"…Most likely, they will take the Okoni Pass, meaning they will be there by tomorrow morn. My guess is that they plan to attack at dawn."
"I see," Kagome replied stiffly, walking up to her own cream-colored horse and checking the saddle and provisions. She seemed completely preoccupied, as though all her thoughts and emotions had drifted somewhere else, far, far away into a place even Kouga couldn't surmise.
The other members of the band, sitting and eating their provisions were beginning to watch her with interest. To them, it seemed that she was going to—but, no, that was impossible.
"What are you doing now?" Kouga sighed, ambling his way through the waist high grass to her side.
The lady frowned but said nothing. Her cheeks were flushed and her hands still quavered like a dry leaf in the breeze.
A minute later, she was atop the horse, her hair billowing in the breeze. She appeared as though she was ridding into battle, the great wind god, ready to protect Japan against foreign invaders—whether it be the Mongols as in legend or Naraku…
"What the hell are you doing?" Kouga asked again, although a little louder and more peeved this time. His fangs were showing and he was beginning to loose his 'dignified' control. His cheeks were becoming as stained with pink, not a good sign, especially when it came to the leader.
Kagome, spoke for the first time, and sighed bitterly, "What does it look like I am doing, Kouga?"
The clan looked up and blinked. The last time anyone had spoken to Kouga like that…well, it had been fatal.
"What?" the wolf-leader hissed, grabbing the reigns from Kagome's loose grip, his eyes squinted into slits of indignation, "What did you say?"
"I said, Kouga, what does it look like I am doing? I'm going to go warn the men at Sesshoumaru's fortress. If I don't warn them, who will? It will be a massacre, and to know I could have stopped it—I could not live with that, I could not live with myself!" She explained resentfully, snatching the worn reigns back from Kouga, so quickly that he hadn't time to react. "Either, you let me go on my own free will, alone" she continued, nudging the horse forward, her blue eyes flaring in indignation, "—or you follow. I don't care what you do. If I die, so be it—at least I know I will have made some impact on this war…! At least I will know that I made a difference—if only for having hope."
With that, she kicked the horse hard on its side and sped off in a flourish of grass and wind, faster than the wind-god itself, or perhaps she was guided by its spirit…yet her horse flew more rapidly than ever imagined. Maybe its destiny was hinted on the wings, just like this war, just like this storm, just like everything…
Kouga made no attempt to chase her. He knew that girl was a bird—she did not do well in small spaces, she did not do well as a mannequin. She had a heart, she was alive, and she made everyone knew it. But, this he supposed ruefully, was part of her charm.
Suppressing a sigh, Kouga grinned and called back, "Alright, let's load up guys. We don't want to lose the girl to the wolves."
The group just laughed and shook their heads.
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AN: collapses desperately into her bed
My GOD, that was the most tiring chapter…don't ask me why, I haven't a clue. I attribute it to the fact that, well, I haven't been Shadows inspired as of late. Also, these chapters are becoming more blurry because the war was the hardest part for me to write, not only because I can't write battle scenes—but I only have certain scenes that I know what I want, for example the final showdown scene, the ending scene…erm….and that is about it. So, with these chapters, I basically have to think of bridging all the plot holes, filling up the holes, and making sure they come across as interesting…
Estimated remaining chapters: 3-4 (subject to change)
As usual, visit my website, which can be accessed at my author page at ff.net . Same thing with my e-mail. For some reason, this computer does not like uploading those links. Stupid people. ;;
As usual, if there are any things I over looked, spelling/grammar wise, lemme know so I can fix them. Sankyuu. :D
And LOOK! I have Sesshoumaru for all you Sesshoumaru fans!
I'm also having a ball with Kouga…he is so much fun to write…
Read! Review! Say…Miroku! (Goodness, I can't believe I hadn't thought of that one earlier…!)
NOTICE: Unless posted otherwise, if you do not get a chapter by…June 20th, do not expect one for quite some time. On the 21st I head to LA and from there I shall be leaving for Japan on the 23rd. I guess you could say I am doing research.