Shadows Against a Shoji Screen
Chapter 33
Fish and Nets
1.) In Nagoya there is the famous sport of fishing with birds. Fisherman put out lanterns and the fish are attracted to the light. They have underwater diving birds that catch the fish but do not eat them because there are metal around their necks which force them to throw it up.
2.) Ramen-ya: just add 'ya' to anything and that makes it a shop. Hon-ya. Sushi-ya. Hana-ya. (bookstore, sushi shop, flower shop)
3.) Ojiisan: old man
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It was one of those types of days that reeked of dreariness. It was filled to the brim with a grey color casting the world into an unattractive hue. There were no shadows, there were no birds in the trees, there were no drops falling from the sky—it was a plain wash of grey, so endless that it stretched onto eternity. At least, Sesshoumaru thought, it ought to have. What good was such dreary weather as this if it did not serve a purpose? If it was going to be grey—the whole world ought to have been in such a state.
The horse moved gently beneath him, and Sesshoumaru smirked at his own thoughts. He wished for change—when not only two days ago he had been praying to the Gods that the confounded rain would cease. Then, this morning it had been absolutely glorious with those large billowing clouds swimming by overhead and the yellowing grass breaking against his legs like waves. Yet, by the afternoon the only reminder of the once dramatic and beautiful state was this slate of dulled blue.
"Damnable weather," Miroku commented on his own horse, as he brought out from some hidden recesses of his cloak a small bottle of sake and sipped on it gingerly, "The heat sort of wipes all the emotion out of you."
Sesshoumaru spared a glance to his wounded companion, shrugged and admitted, "In war, having no emotions is desirable."
Miroku sipped his sake again, and added seriously, so seriously that the silver-haired lord was somewhat startled. It seemed very out of character for this monk and advisor to wear the tragic Noh mask so perfectly.
"I do not admit to this war. To me it is nothing more than a shift of powers—something that should have happened quite some time ago."
Perhaps the monk was right. Perhaps this war wasn't even justifiable—but then again, was any war? Yet, he knew what his companion was getting at: this war, if it could be called that, went against every moral bone (if any should exist) in his body. It was a mockery, a mockery that was bringing down the whole country with the passing fashion of the nobles…
"It will soon be over," Sesshoumaru stated, more of a demand than a comment. He was anxious to return to his home, to what was familiar to him—even with the emptiness that would greet him there; he was prepared for that. If he would be forced to live out the rest of his days in that great house, books and scrolls his only company—then so be it.
The time of bloodshed was over in his life—the moon was beginning a new phase and a most anticipated one at that.
"In any case," Miroku began again, offering the sake to Sesshoumaru, "I am beginning to recognize these woods—we should be at the shrine of the Shikon no Tama in no time."
The youkai-lord surprised even him by taking the sake and inhaling a long draft. The sake, startlingly, was quite a good blend, with a comforting taste that caused his throat to burn warmly. Taking one last sip, Sesshoumaru admitted, feeling his entire body begin to glow with the alcohol, "It has been quite some time since I have had Sake as good as this. Where was it purchased?"
Once this war was over, he would go buy out the whole stock from wherever it was created—yes, that was something to look forward to: getting absolutely drunk. It had been years since he had allowed that temporary indulgence.
But when Miroku responded, Sesshoumaru was caught rather-off guard.
"I make it myself." The monk admitted casually, grabbing two apples from an over-hanging tree and tossing one of them to Sesshoumaru, where, it landed quite comfortably in his lap.
"Indeed?" The silver-haired lord questioned arduously, picking up the apple and taking a small bite out of its sweet skin.
"Yep," Miroku continued on, "Just one of those things I have picked up with all my years of traipsing about the countryside with Inuyasha. Yes, I…"
But his words died, and he slowed down his horse to a steady trot. His eyes were wide in amazement, and a piece of apple hung suspended out of his mouth.
"My, that is the biggest, darkest cloud I have seen in quite some time…" He whispered, awestruck.
Sesshoumaru, glancing from Miroku and following his gaze, subconsciously gulped. Yes. That was the biggest cloud he had ever seen and the darkest as well. It hung over the approaching valley, its bottom so heavily bore with water that it was black. There wasn't a trace of white in the whole form—it was only created of the darkest of colors. Long wisps hung from its bottom—from a distance, beautiful and quiet…but no, those forms were heavy trenches of rain that now snaked through the sun-baked earth and rain engorged the rural countryside. The hills were obstructed by this monstrosity, and sighing, Sesshoumaru realized that the two of them were heading directly into this dragon's den, right into the gates of hell…where, the damnable shrine laid…the shrine of the Shikon no Tama…
Casting a hurried glance at Miroku, Sesshoumaru stirred his horse that had stopped walking some minutes ago.
"We must continue—nature and its forces do not bow to the likes of man…"
And once again, the two rode through the blue, only now hinted with the shadow from the rain that would seal more men's and youkai's fate than first believed.
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There was something cool. This was all he knew; the coolness. He wished to be warm and unbeknownst to him he found that he was grimacing. The coolness did not go away, in fact, as he began to think about it the sensation seemed to be growing more pronounced.
It addition to the temperature it was dark. A deadly black. It surrounded him—and it would have seemed a comforting darkness had he been warm. Yet now, surrounded in this chill, he suddenly wished for the light. Perhaps, perhaps, where there was light there was warmth.
This idea appealed to him.
He didn't know where he was. He could hear nothing. Not even his own heartbeat. It was utter silence. But, Inuyasha knew he had to open his eyes. There could be no other way to free himself from this solitude.
And so, opened his eyes he did. The action came much more natural and without pain than he had first imagined—and almost immediately he was blinded.
He was not yet able to form words, but if he had that capability, he would have sworn. He could not move his body, and so, once again, there he was in this dark coolness.
Yet, in that brief glimpse of sunlight it seemed as though the world had once again slammed into him—there were sounds, sights, (if he had the ability to see them) and smells...
Inhaling a shuddering breath, Inuyasha steadied his breathing. He didn't know what had happened, but obviously it hadn't been good. The last thing he remembered was being out on a deserted rice field…and then pain…and then…crimson.
Subconsciously, he gulped. It had happened, hadn't it? He had been driven to the edge, hadn't he?
And the scent of dried blood surrounding his frame wasn't helping his suspicions much.
The hanyou-lord opened his eyes again, and this time, with every possible effort, he concentrated on the muscles in his arm, and with much labor, caused it to move—shading his eyes from the bright, if not warm light. It was a butter-cup colored light of early autumn—a color created by the innocence of spring, the laziness of summer and solitude of winter.
His hand now shaded his face, and for the first time, he noticed the gentle burble of water—and then, almost instantly, he realized the reason behind the cold sensation: the fact was that he was half submerged in a mountain-side brook, filled with icy waters from higher altitudes.
And yet, he could not move. Not quite yet. He had to concentrate, to think of what was yet to come. What was the purpose in moving when you had nowhere to go? Yes. If he left this cool-shaded-watery spot, what would happen to him? Would he truly fly black into that bloodstained world where only wreck awaited for his demise?
Of course, he felt that he shouldn't. To flee was the logical thing to do; however, he had a reputation to uphold. A reputation made up of brazen attitude and clear disrespect for the rules. The rules would have mandated him to 'arise victorious' when the opportunity presented itself. And here he was. Floating in it.
But why,' he questioned to himself in earnest, noticing the dried blood on his arm, 'would I return to that? What does war hold for me? '
Yes. How easy it would be. A dog running with his tale in-between his legs. But what did it matter—what did all of this matter when Kikyou could be so easily acquired. A happy life with her was all that he had wished for—and oh, how it shone above the horizon.
His happiness was above the sky. His happiness was above the clouds.
So close now in this brook of heaven.
Damn it all,' Inuyasha scowled, moving body about for the first time and studying his surroundings. He appeared to be in a small meadow. Strangely, a horse seemed to be grazing by a tree some twenty yards away. Odd, the lord thought absently to himself, not yet noticing the abnormally shaped mounds that were splattered, like paint on a canvas, throughout the innocent grasses.
So be it. Inuyasha decided firmly, having subconsciously made up his decision. The fact remained however, no matter how disgusting and unpleasant this resolution had become; there was a war. Lives were at stake—lives of his kinsman. He could not be as immature to throw those lives away for love. Yes, he may have been foolhardy, but he was not a coward.
Be it love or honor, Inuyasha had reached a conclusion…whether it was the end of the chapter, or his book, well, that remained to be seen.
The crimson clad-lord hovered in the swollen-brown waters of the creek for a moment longer, noticing as a large fat red dragon-fly zoomed over purple corn-flowers that had bloomed late out amongst the grasses. The dragon-fly was a metallic red, his eyes glowing a deep green, and even Inuyasha could feel that small creature's penetrating gaze.
Yet eventually the hanyou, with much effort, pulled himself onto the damp and yellowed-grasses of early autumn out of the cold waters of the raging brook. It was a warm scent and sensation, laying, no, sprawled out amongst those dying soldiers of summer, their posture only slightly bent by the great gusts of wind.
Don't worry too much, Inuyasha thought lazily, his silver-color hair catching the light and entrancing him; winter will come soon and put you and the cornflowers out of your misery.
His eyes fell to a particularly fine specimen of a corn-flower, primly aloft some foot away. The edges of the blue petals were faintly lighter than the center, making it appear as though it was glowing—a firefly in the dusk.
Blue.
Blue…
Kagome had blue eyes. He remembered that especially. How they caught the light when she was happy, how her tears sparkled like diamonds in the after-noon light. He remembered those strange quirky moments with that girl—their fights, their bickering, their moments of peace. Looking back on those moments, he realized how much he had come to treasure them.
But those moments were a dark deep treasure that had to be hidden deep inside his heart of hearts. There could be no truth revealed as far as he felt about that blue-eyed creature.
She was dead in his eyes.
Reaching out, Inuyasha snatched the blue-flower and ripped it from the ground.
There, Inuyasha sighed, it's done.
It was a pity though…the roots to that flower still remained deep inside of the ground, even though the flower itself would soon die.
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The day had been hot. Humid. Most days in summer seemed to be this way. Great swelling clouds formed in the distance. On the female species of pine tree, small, green cones were being formed. Tall overgrown grasses gently swayed over the mountain path. The grey of dusk had fallen, and in the distance the small strangled cry of a bird perched high in some tree's branches sang.
Everywhere was the gentle hum of cicadas—at times as soft as a lullaby, others as loud as the boom of black thunder or summer fireworks over the bay.
But Kagome heard none of this. She saw none of this. The pink flowers blooming beneath the overgrown grass went unnoticed. The evening chant from the hillside monastery was just an idea.
All she saw was the path ahead. That was all she allowed herself to see. The path: brown and coarse, old and precarious.
The single thing she needed to know was where it led. And with that destination in mind, she made her way through the dense foliage and underbrush of which the hillsides were known for.
"Kagome," a voice that now seemed foreign to her called, "Don't you think this has gone on long enough?"
She did not reply, but instead urged her already exhausted horse onward.
The voice continued, "You'll run the thing ragged, you know."
Once again, she did not reply, nor did she face the leader of the wolf-clan. Whether he was right or not didn't really matter at this point of time. All that mattered was to warn Sesshoumaru and his men. Things could not continue this way.
"Listen," Kouga continued, a bit more harshly as he pulled his horse up beside her own, despite the narrowness of the path, "It's not as though I am against this little escapade or anything like that. Sesshoumaru has the right to be warned of an attack."
He paused for a moment as he narrowly missed on overhanging branch.
"It's just that—like I said, if you continue this mad race, it'll only make things last longer. I doubt if you would reach Sesshoumaru's fortress in time, what with the pace that you're going."
Kagome's eyes strayed from the road.
"What do you mean?"
"What do you mean, 'What do you mean?'" the youkai snapped annoyed as he spat out a bug that had accidentally flown into his mouth, "Look at the state of your horse! It's already on its legs! If you give it a rest and walk it the rest of the way, we'll get there by dawn."
"Dawn!?" Kagome shouted, angrily slapping her wild hair aside.
Kouga finally decided to put gentilities to an end and angrily reached over and grabbed the worn reigns from her grip. For a moment Kagome saw a flash of lightening from within the dark depths of his eyes. She saw how powerful the youkai really was.
But it was only a flash.
A moment or maybe even a half-moment had passed. The next thing she knew, she felt the horse rear to a halt and her body fall back into nothingness. In that moment, she saw the golden light flash between the leaves overhead. She heard the distant cry of birds and the gentle murmuring of a nearby brook.
Kouga saw that moment as well. Perhaps not the leaves or birds or brook—instead he saw the girl he wanted to protect float through the air—almost as though she was a tanuki or kitsune, for truly only a being as magical as that could look so lovely as they dangled precariously on the edge of misfortune and chance.
Had Kouga had time to think, he would have questioned his motives and himself. But there was no time. And so, he leapt, and the next moment he felt the dull pain as he hit the ground.
The next words he heard were, "You…"
And opening his eyes he scowled, "Now look at the mess we're in. And ....," he continued on, finding that if he talked he could ignore the tree root that was poking his back painfully, "Had you not been so fool-hardy and hot-headed things might not have turned out this way."
"Me? Hot-headed? Fool-hardy? Since when has being just and—."
"—Listen, I don't want to hear any of your excuses. Sesshoumaru entrusted you to Miroku, and Miroku entrusted you to me. Don't you have any pity for the injured?"
"You're hurt?!" Kagome gasped, suddenly feeling very guilty, but also realizing two very important things: number one, he had just jumped from his horse to save her, and number two she was laying on top of him. A blush grew on her cheeks, but Kouga did not seem to notice. Quite the contrary he was trying to sit up.
As he managed to become more upright he wrapped an arm about her shoulder. For support, or so she presumed. She could feel his warmth pressed against her body and the blush deepened.
"It doesn't matter if I'm hurt. I'll recover," he continued, leaning against the tree now, "What matters is that both our horses need some rest, food, and water, as do we. The boys will catch up soon, I imagine."
There was a crack in the bushes.
Kagome did not say anything and was trying to not look Kouga in the eye, although he seemed quite content to do so.
"Will we make it there in time?"
Kouga, finally catching her glance replied, quite seriously, "I give you my word Kagome. Now, why don't you go to the stream over there and water the horses. Just make sure you don't over drink 'em, y'hear?"
A few seconds passed, until Kagome pulled herself from any such thoughts, stood up, and made her way towards the horses and began to walk through the long fingered grasses to the sparklingly innocent brook. Absentmindedly she turned and stared at the gold clouds, lined with grey. Or, perhaps they were grey clouds lined in gold. She did not know.
Meanwhile, back on the path, Kouga turned towards the bushes and sighed annoyed, "Have fun there boys? Enjoy the show?"
A few faces of his fellow kinsman popped out of the bushes, their eyes alit with tears, "T-That was so beautiful boss!"
Kouga just grumbled something to himself about half-wits and went off to go to the bathroom by a tree.
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Night had now come in its graceful method. Like a geisha sitting down, her warm embrace was by one's side before you knew it. And indeed the night was a warm one, filled with the gentle hum of cicadas and the smoky dreams that accompany the darkness that the two riders had become so accustomed to.
In Nagoya the boats along the river would be lighted by the lanterns, the unknowing fish would be drawn to the warm rays, ignorant of the bird that flew overhead.
"Perhaps we are like fish," Miroku sighed absently, wishing that it wasn't so damn dark and that the moon would reappear from behind the scattered clouds.
"Fish have gills. And cannot blink. I do not see any similarities," Sesshoumaru pointed out, his own response surprising himself. Normally he would not even grunt at such a comment. But he had actually acknowledged the fool's idiotic idea. Maybe he was like a fish—maybe he did have a small brain.
"That's not what I meant…if you want I could compare us to moths. But in either case, consider this: perhaps we are moving towards a light. At this moment there is relatively not a care in the world—,"
"Relatively."
"Yes, relatively." Miroku insisted, "But when we get to the shrine, will we be burned? Singed? Boiled? Eaten alive?"
"Only time will tell if we are delicious fish." Sesshoumaru smirked, looking up at the sky that was draped with clouds, "And, if time does not tell…"
He left the matter unsaid.
The two rode on in silence for the rest of the journey. It was dawn when they reached the town where the famed shrine was located in the surrounding hills now flecked with the beginnings of autumn. The grey matted village however was mostly deserted and only an old man with his abacus remained, idly configuring numbers on a stool, situated outside a rust-colored ramen-ya.
The man's face was as intricate and as simple as cracks in dried ground. It gave everything away and yet nothing. Even his eyes, only beads of blackness were both basic and complex. Yes, this man was a perfect stereotype of a weathered farmer—one that had seen all too many failures and all too few successes.
"Excuse me, Ojiisan," Miroku began, leaning over the side of his horse, "Where have all the town folks gone?"
Sesshoumaru, leaving it to the better suited to be friendly, slowly rode his mare onward, glimpsing bits of green from rice fields, glinting eggplants left on the vine, idle doors open to the world. Obviously circumstances were considered grave if families should abandon their worldly goods to the likes of anyone.
The world was silent here in the blue light before the grey of dawn. It was comforting this moment. This time. What, after the dark night that had been too warm and too intimate with his mind.
"The town folk?" The old man repeated, sounding slightly confused, licking his chapped lips. Maybe, Miroku supposed, the man was senile.
"Yes. Has there been a battle...or..?"
The man broke into a fit of broken laughter, his face old and wrinkled like fishcakes, giggling with the vibration, "Oh, they all left for the hills or some such thing. Call it a holiday or vacation if you will."
"But what of the rice? The crops? Who will tend to such things?"
"Oh, they look after themselves for a week—and, if they don't, youkai or some animal will get to them first. Although sometimes I take my liberties. The Fujimoto's cucumbers and onions are beginning to ripen nicely—I'll just tell 'em a fox got to 'em or something. Always do!" The man chuckled, wiping some snot from his long and crooked nose (that appeared to have been broken several times over his lifetime).
Miroku's frown deepened, "But what if a typhoon should happen?"
"Then it does. This vacation of theirs is not by their own choice, you know. Still, I don't mind piggin' out for a week or two…"
"What do you mean?"
"Some go to the sea, others to the mountains, or distant relatives. None want to go, 'specially during this time of the year—but they have no choice. Until those two brothers make amends, the town folk would rather be far away then risk all the things that accompany war—besides the killing, if you know what I mean." The man's eyebrows rose suggestively as he eyed the direction in which Sesshoumaru had disappeared. There was a flash in the black beady eyes. He was connecting the dots. One by one by one.
Miroku, glancing towards Sesshoumaru, aware that even though the youkai didn't appear to be listening, in actuality his ears were as fine-tuned as a koto. Sometimes the youkai was so predictable. Sesshoumaru appeared to be studying the rice fields? A likely story indeed.
"And so there is no one left?"
"Well, you could try the temple—perhaps Kaede has come for a visit. She likes to yell at me about eating the vegetables, though she only comes every six months or so. There isn't much there—ever since the old miko was killed by the Lord of the Western Lands and the Shikon no Tama vanished—well all it is now, is a place to dry off from the rain." The man's teeth crunched into an onion and offered Miroku a bite.
"I see," Miroku murmured, placing his straw hat atop his head, declining politely. The first startling colors of morning sun had arrived, although they would be short lived, for not even an hour would pass before the rains would begin again.
As Sesshoumaru would later say, the two seemed to scare the sun away sooner or later.
Heaving a sigh, Miroku thanked the old man, who, after offering them some freshly picked vegetables from his rival's garden (which Miroku took, and promptly paid for) went back to his mad abacus work, as though he and he alone could solve all the problems of the world with those beads. Or maybe he was figuring out how many vegetables he could eat in a day.
Bringing his own horse to the top of the small hill that Sesshoumaru had perched himself upon, Miroku said nothing for a long moment. Long grass, without a blade of yellow, swayed in the warm breeze, hinted with the scent of wet soil and overripe fruit. It was different, down here in the valley, looking up at the worn faded hills above.
"Well, what did you make of that?" Miroku broached as he gingerly touched his still tender-wound and winced.
"Maybe you were right," Sesshoumaru replied absentmindedly, gazing out at the wash of abandoned rice-fields and orchards, the scent of desolation as strong as the grass beneath him.
"How so?" Miroku questioned, "Not that I don't mind being right or anything."
In truth, Miroku was amused by Sesshoumaru's approach to life, love, and everything. The youkai was more than met the eye to be sure—on the surface he was a cold-blooded ruler, ruthless and as strict as could be. But obviously a passion burned deep within this being—one that Kagome had managed to uncover.
Perhaps this was why their relationship was so strong. Kagome saw the true youkai, buried beneath the years of blood and sweat.
And perhaps, Sesshoumaru saw through the almost tom-boyish nature that Kagome often-times possessed. He saw the strong flower hiding beneath the towering leaf above. Kagome was a rose, beautiful, delicate but dangerous when needed.
"Maybe we are all fish, or moths, or monkeys—whatever you prefer. If we are scared we hide, if it is safe we move towards our goal. Is the light really the sun or the fisherman that has come to snatch us?"
"This sounds awfully fatalistic. Remember that oftentimes even if tempted into a trap a fish can get away. It is slippery and wet, it was designed that way. It can get out of very tight situations." The monk distinguished quite literally.
And this is a very tight situation indeed, Sesshoumaru whispered to himself. Not only must he manage to explain to Inuyasha that he didn't kill his past lover (which certainly explained a lot of things, perhaps Inuyasha's entire motive in this war) and continue to explain that Naraku was a traitor to both himself and Inuyasha…but somehow, somehow, he had to make Inuyasha see and understand his emotions towards his wife.
Suddenly he wanted very much to be a fish.
Why is it that of all obstacles I have had to face, I fear this one the most?
Why?
Because you have the most to loose…
Moving their horses towards the direction of the shrine, Miroku commented, "From this angle I could have sworn we were in your domain the view is so similar."
Glancing once again at the endless wave of green, the dark rolling hills and the grey tumultuous clouds, Sesshoumaru supposed that the monk was right.
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It was dawn, Kagome noted dimly, finding sleep clawing at her eyes. The sun had not yet risen, but in the misty depths of the mountain plateau, she saw the familiar gleam of the blue tiles which adorned Sesshoumaru's fortress. They gleamed in the grey light, only heightened by the thick overhang of clouds which had been steadily increasing all night, much to her and the party's dismay. These clouds meant rain.
She turned her head behind her and glanced back at Kouga, who, at this moment was staring pensively into the horizon, a serious expression residing on his features.
"What is it?" Kagome began. What could the leader of the wolf-clan be so worried about? The fortress was within view, and no doubt they were a good hour and a half ahead of Naraku's men.
"Those clouds," Kouga began, scratching his stubble, "Those clouds over there look pretty menacing, and, if I am correct, that is Inuyasha's land."
Her gaze traveled to the distant horizon, nearly black in this light.
She felt foolish in asking, but nevertheless bared her ignorance to the matters of war.
"I know that rain is bad…but why do you look so serious about it?"
Kouga's troubled glance strayed from the distant mountains and fell lightly onto Kagome's gaze, "Rain, Kagome, is bad. And, by the likes of it, those clouds look like the main brunt of the incoming monsoon."
He paused and licked his lips, "War is bad enough, even when the weather is good. But rain, rain makes things tricky. You loose more men, there are more mistakes. Rain draws out anything that you wish'd to become accomplished. It only makes war longer. And more bloody."
"I see," Kagome finally decided upon. So, the rain elongated any clash of arms and the flow of blood. Mother Nature was ruthless indeed. She hid a grimace and faced the misty forest before her, the red trees, the overhanging branches filled with green pinecones and the blanket of slippery shining needles at her feet.
Beneath her body, the horse trotted on, following the worn path. Kagome was thankful that the creature appeared to know where they were going—it allowed her to talk with Kouga, and clear her mind somewhat. Yet at this moment her mind was about as clear as the skies above.
The night's journey had been long and arduous and not allowing her sleep for one moment. At about two in the morning, sleep had stopped becoming a priority and for a period of five hours or so, she was pushed forward with the help of her adrenaline. She could not afford to rest until after this business was taken care of.
"Now, be careful," Kouga warned, urging his horse forward so that it was at level with hers, "When we appear from out of the forest they will no doubt try to attack us. That's why we haft to wait at the edge of the forest and wait for them to speak to us. Once we tell them why we're there, things should go 'somewhat' more smoothly."
Kagome nodded and questioned, "Are you saying you want this to be left to you?"
Kouga pursed his somewhat chapped lips and mulled over the question, "Truth be told, I would rather let ya handle it. I mean, this little 'escapade' was all your idea anyway—but I don't know if the soldiers will, erm, want to talk to you."
Biting her tongue, Kagome said nothing. So, the soldiers did not want to talk to her because she was female? Well then, so be it.
"But, on the other side, a female travelin' with us makes it look like our intentions are peaceful, so…" Kouga's voice trailed off; not exactly knowing what to say from there. Deciding that it was better not to talk about 'female roles,' Kouga discretely coughed and hurriedly continued on," In any case, as soon as we have said our peace to them, we have to go."
Kagome glanced down at the worn leather reigns, her expression softer now, if not only a tad melancholy.
"I know that you would rather wait, but Naraku's men will be upon this mountain range in less than an hour and a half, and we need to make sure we are a good distance away before the fighting starts. Naraku's men may be slow marchers, but from what I have heard in the past they are vicious in the battlefield."
Kagome, clearing her throat, pointed out politely, "But aren't all battlefields vicious?"
Kouga chuckled at her remark and thought about it for a long moment, bringing his horse into the lead so that it surpassed her own on the dark trail. They were not but a half kilometer from Sesshoumaru's fortress and already the trees were beginning to thin in the grey light.
"War is vicious to be sure," Kouga began, "But even in the battlefield there is a rough code of ethics."
"For example?" Kagome urged, feeling the stirring of her heart as she recognized the familiar balcony on the western expanse.
"Well, for example, let's say you had received a fatal wound or something like that. It is inevitable that you're gonna die…so often times the opposing side kills you while you're down."
"That doesn't seem very honorable." Kagome replied, quite tersely, wondering if these were methods Inuyasha or Sesshoumaru employed.
"Of course it's honorable. Would you rather die a quick death or an excruciatingly painful one? I would go for the first one, m'self."
Kagome chose not to reply, her blue eyes flashing to the clearing ahead and growing light. The sun, appearing momentarily from behind a cloud, was just beginning to shine through the thin trees; brushing the tops in a color like that of honey.
"Slow…slow…," Kouga whispered, and Kagome could not tell if he was talking to her or the horse or both of them.
The first call of the lark wailed through the mountain range, and with that first chirp and whoop the momentary sun extinguished like a candle in the night. The clouds had gobbled it up greedily.
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"General Inamoto! General Inamoto!" A guard called, rushing through the compounds, past the bustling food distribution center, in-between the isolated vegetable and herb garden, and out to the grassy stables where the general was supposedly checking the condition of his horse.
The guard arrived breathless and flushed, but never the less, even though doubled over, he choked out, "General…(huff)…a group has been (puff) spotted on the hills."
The general, who had not paid attention to the over-zealous guard at first rose his eyebrows, "What?"
"A group of seven people or so are at the edge of the southern clearing, just (puff) standing there. They say they want to speak to you."
The general's gaze turned stormy, "Just seven, you say? Did you not detect anyone through the trees?"
The guard, gulping, admitted, "They had a female with them, and from the looks of it, the remaining people seemed to be a wolf-youkai of some sort."
The expression on the general's face did not clear in the least.
"Indeed? A female, you say? And what colors were they wearing? Did they have no lineage?"
The guard, glancing over his shoulder at the arrival of a second guard behind him, continued, "There were no banners. At first we thought them trappers or thieves, and if the girl had not been with them—,"
The general waved his hand to motion for the guard to shut up, "I will be there in a minute. This is most unexpected."
"Sir?" The guard questioned, his eyes averted.
"What are you still doing here?" the guard snapped, "Get back to duty, and make sure that this 'group' stays on the edge of the property."
The guard and his companion quickly bowed and shuffled away, presumably back to the compound to inform the others of the general's decision.
Nodding to the blacksmith about the condition of his chocolate-colored mare, General Inamoto sighed and made his way into the kitchen. There was someone he had to find. By the sounds of what the nameless guard had told him, this might have been the party that Sesshoumaru had sent away some days ago. But why were there only seven? As he recalled there had been at least nine.
It was a possibility that two of them had died in battle, but what were the remainder doing here? It had only been a few days, and as he had heard, this party was destined for Kyoto or Edo, not to return to the war zone.
There was only one or two people remaining who could clearly identify the people in this group, and this was who he was searching for at this very moment. They weren't particularly hard to find. Both were still sleeping after their tiring journey, which, he had heard, had taken several months.
Opening the shoji screen to the fox-demon's room, he barked, "Go wake up the Lady Rin and tell her that we have a crisis on our hands."
The fox demon looked up groggily, his mouth hanging open, his auburn hair unbecoming in this early hour. However, when he saw who was addressing him he woke up almost instantly.
"Meet me in the compounds in five minutes with Lady Rin." He commanded, turning on his heal and making his way back towards the direction he had come.
When Sesshoumaru had first told him that his assignment was to guard his fortress and the Sagano Pass he had been insulted. It turned out that had been rather short-sighted of him. How could he have forgotten his teachings from military school? There was no un-important post.
Grabbing a rice ball, he quickly ate it, stuffing it into his mouth, heartbeat quickening. For some reason…he did not have a very good feeling about what this group had come to say or do.
Not a good feeling at all.
It took the Lady Rin and her youkai follower but four minutes to reach the compound, appearing in a flush of emotion mixed with the symptoms of being still half-asleep.
"What is it?" she questioned groggily, tugging on her loose garments, her bleary eyes glancing about at all the soldiers that were eying the group in unveiled interest.
"It seems," General Inamoto began, stroking his moustache, "That a mysterious group has appeared at the edge of the compounds. I have been told that they wish to talk to me, and I have a nagging suspicion that the people in this group might be strangely familiar to you both."
Shippou and Rin exchanged glances, somewhat more awake now.
"Where are they?" Shippou questioned, stepping slightly forward, his eyes glancing about at the elevated verandas above, that were firmly attached to the moss engulfed stone walls that comprised Sesshoumaru's fortress.
"Come, follow me." Inamoto instructed, turning sharply and taking long lengthy strides across the compound and towards the base of a ladder. "From above we will be able to converse with them, but at a distant. I am taking no chances, especially with the Lady Rin on the premises."
Shippou, standing behind Rin, nodded and commented fiercely, "I understand your concern."
Rin said nothing, but began to climb the ladder.
Once atop the veranda, surprisingly sound, and the wind wiping about their heads, the general pointed towards the clearing most near to them. In late summer the grasses were yellowed and fading, especially on the mountaintop plateau with no nearby streams. Still, a few freckled blue-bells managed to bloom amongst the yellow, and, Rin noted, deep in the shade of the wood, she could see the dark scarlet of the camellias.
"There," The general Inamoto motioned, his weathered face serious and distraught, as though his choice of action would rely upon Shippou and Rin recognizing the party members.
Rin, squinting in the dim light of the gray dawn whispered, "It can't be…"
"It can't be what?" Inamoto inquired hurriedly.
"But why would they come back?" Shippou sighed, he too looking towards the shadow of the figures some fifty feet away.
"Why would who come back?" Inamoto persisted, finding his temper beginning to flare. Were all young adults this difficult nowadays—or only the ones that the Lord Sesshoumaru allowed to live in his house?
"It appears to be Kouga, Kagome and the other members of his clan," Shippou answered seriously, his eyes still resting on that point, hidden in the brush of the wood.
"Do you mean Lady Kagome—the girl that was in Sesshoumaru's custody?" Inamoto nearly goggled, licking his lips in nervousness.
Before either the incredulous Shippou or bemused Rin could answer a shout shot across the wind, calling, "Rin? Shippou? Is that you?"
The young lady's eyes flashed over the swarm of moving grasses and into the dim recesses of the forest, where the sound had emitted.
The general, his teeth gritted, warned, "It could be a trap. Can you see them youkai?"
Shippou, controlling any scowl or appearance of anger at being so rudely acknowledged, leaned over the edge of the moss-warn structure and squinted his eyes. Indeed, there were several things—whether people or youkai he could not tell. Yet, as he continued to watch, he saw one shape separate themselves from the group and slowly, ever slowly, make its way into the grey light of the pre-dawn hours.
And once she had exited from the shadows of the trees all became clear. Shippou gulped. It was indeed the Lady Kagome, without a doubt. Of course her garments had changed and she looked quite dirty, but in her stance, in her gaze you could tell that this figure was brought from a regal background.
"L-Lady Kagome?!" Shippou sputtered as he called across the grassy meadow.
Another member dispatched itself from the group and walked into the grey light.
"And Kouga…," Rin breathed still incredulous.
The general shot wary glances at the two youngsters before questioning aggregately, "Well, do you know them or not?"
Shippou, grinning like mad now, though still perplexed as to why Kagome and Kouga were there. Shippou chuckled, "Know them? Know them? I would say so after having to spend two months with them!"
The general grumbled something under his breath and was about to call down to the two murky figures before a voice, none other than Kouga's, rang out across the silence of slumbering dawn.
"Look, we'd really love to stand in the grass any other day but today. But we've got to speak to the general, so if you don't mind could you let us in? It's not like we have a whole lot of time here!"
The general shifted his eyes from the two standing by him at the fortress and then to the two figures adrift in the field below. Catching the gate-keepers eye from down below, he gave a swift nod and sighed. For some reason he didn't have a very good feeling about all this…
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Kagome, sipping on some hot miso broth, sighed. The general, eyeing the rather worse-for-wear party, sighed as well. Kouga, taking a cat nap off in the corner, snored softly.
"Well, you said there was something you wanted to discuss?" General Inamoto questioned exasperatedly, casting a horrified glance at one of the members of the group who had just found a flee in his hair and was crushing it between his two finger-nails.
"Yes, well you see," Kagome began, studying the weave in the tatami mats, wondering when it had become so hard to speak again. Maybe it was the presence of unfamiliar men. Or maybe it was because she was back at Sesshoumaru's fortress, a place she had sworn never to visit again…a youkai that she had sworn never to…
Well, thoughts like that would get her nowhere.
So, swallowing her courage with the remaining miso-broth, she cleared her throat and began. Began as best she could.
"As you were informed we are supposed to be far away by now, in the safety of neighboring lands—,"
"Yes," The general cut in, crossing his arms, "You were supposed to be."
"Be that as it may, we had every intent of leaving, I can assure you. That was until we stumbled across something that we felt you should be informed of immediately."
Inamoto raised an eyebrow, a long, bushy, scraggly eyebrow. "Is that so?"
"We saw Naraku's men taking the Seikoku road. This road as you know follows the rear of the mountains…but why, I wondered, why would his men be taking such a long and out of the way route, should they wish to attack Inuyasha?"
"Why indeed?" Inamoto frowned, stroking his clean-shaven chin.
Kagome took a deep breath. This was what the past day had been for. The race against time. For this moment right here. To warn Sesshoumaru's men. To save innocent lives against the scum of the earth. But why was it so hard to say?
"I-It's because," She stuttered, bowing her head, hiding her face more than anything, "Naraku is planning on attacking this fortress in a little over an hour. The group and I managed to out-ride them by proceeding directly here. But we knew that you needed to be warned."
Inamoto looked shocked and quickly took a long deep draft of tea.
She continued, feeling she ought to explain it all, "No one expected Naraku to attack here, even you."
Inamoto did not argue. In fact, he was beginning to look rather pleased. A slight flush of excitement had risen, like apples, to his cheeks.
"No, I suppose you are right. I did not expect anyone to attack."
Kagome nodded, and urged, "Then please, trust my word, and should Kouga be awake—,"
"—I'm awake." He called from the corner, his eyes still closed.
"Please trust our words. I…I only wish what is best for the sake of Sesshoumaru."
Inamoto's expression changed to one of mild shock, "But aren't you Inuyasha's wife?"
Kagome gulped and admitted, "Yes. But I do not support this war in the least."
Inamoto brushed off his robes and nodded to Kagome, sitting in the sea of tatami, "I trust your word. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to inform the men. There isn't much time at all. Should his men attack, that is."
Kouga, eyes still closed, snorted, "There would've been less time if we hadn't come you know."
The general's wrinkles on his face were lit by the glow from the shoji, giving him a very tired and aged look, and nodding once more before making his way towards the exit. Yet, at the door, he paused and spoke quickly, "And what will you do now, Lady Kagome?"
The blue-eyed girl, her head still bent low, whispered, "Once the men and I are clean and our supplies renewed, we shall return to the countryside. We cannot afford to be captured in this war. I believe more than anyone, I want it to be over as soon as possible."
The shoji screen slid open and the figure of Inamoto slid out, only becoming a water-torn shadow against the white canvas. He melted away into the backdrop, his steps slowly growing softer and softer as he tred across firm earth ground. Soon the whisper and shock could be felt throughout the stone walls of the fortress. Voices were more urgent, steps more quick.
Yes, soon war would arrive here as well.
Kagome closed her eyes feeling the need for sleep to engulf her form for the first time in what seemed like eons. She was just about to slip into the milky darkness that she longed for when she felt a pair of strong warm arms around her and the ticklish whisper in her ear of, "Not now, princess, we have be off if you don't want your pretty little head to be chopped off."
Kagome, opening her eyelids with much effort, mumbled something along the lines of, "But what about Rin and Shippou?"
Kouga, practically carrying her now, explained, "They'll understand, Kagome. After all, this is war. Yeh can't have your tea ceremony every day of the week now can ya?"
She did not respond, but instead was led out of the room and into the pavilion where their new horses were waiting, burdened fresh with supplies.
Kagome was half asleep as she gave her second good-bye to Sesshoumaru's fortress, the image half real and half illusion in her mind.
An illusion and reality she would treasure.
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It was eerie standing amongst the forgotten graves of nameless villagers in the grey light of dawn. The forest was deadly silent, not even a bird of the morning dared to sing a sweet sad song in such a place at such a time. A light rain had begun, but this was the least of Sesshoumaru's worries, as he picked his way through a barely visible path, that would (supposedly) lead the two of them to the rear of the shrine of the Shikon no Tama.
The moss-covered graves seemed to lead the way.
"Pretty—er—welcoming, don't you think?" Miroku questioned from behind him, at that moment walking through a large spider-web.
Sesshoumaru chose not to reply. He was studying the territory. Already in the distance he could see the nearly invisible rooftop through the trees. The traditional naturalist Shinto architecture. Soon they would be upon it, and all that would be left to do was wait.
It wasn't the waiting that bothered Sesshoumaru—more like the actual confrontation.
The path had turned more decipherable with faded and dirty white gravel now covering the ground. It crunched beneath their feet.
Yes, we are most stealthy indeed, Sesshoumaru chuckled to himself looking up into the tree-tops and the grey that surrounded them. He could see the tips of the clouds swirling and fingering about the tips of the great pine trees.
"There it is," Sesshoumaru breathed, finding that the path had led them to a small courtyard where there was a small aged well that had long grasses surrounding its worn-moss covered edges.
Miroku, who had his head bent while he tried to free spider-web from his garments, continued to walk—right in to Sesshoumaru.
"What are we standing here for?" He questioned, rubbing his head in pain. Sesshoumaru was wearing armor after all. He may have been a youkai, but he wasn't so arrogant as to presume he was immortal.
But Sesshoumaru did not say anything. His golden eyes were now slits of cunning as he watched something move its way across the court-yard.
Peaking out from behind Sesshoumaru's backside, he commented with a simple, "Oh."
It was a miko. A young, fair and beautiful miko. But a miko nonetheless. At first she had been oblivious to the presence of a silver-haired youkai and his monk companion standing at the edge of the back trail that had been un-used for years. However, as she neared the well, her dark eyes strayed into the woods and she held in a gasp.
The three did not say anything for a long time. But finally, the miko, gently placing the bucket on the edge of the structure crossed her arms and questioned, "You must be Sesshoumaru; Lord of the Western lands and half-brother to Inuyasha."
His lips curled. What had given it away, he wondered idly? The golden eyes or the silver hair?
"Yes, you are correct." He replied smoothly, wondering what would be the most efficient way to kill her. He had no time for exchanging pleasantries with the likes of priestesses, "And you might be?"
The girl stepped forward her footstep echoing against the light drizzle. Ah, she is a brazen one, much like Kagome, Sesshoumaru thought as he studied her in disdain.
"My name is Kaede. I am the sister to the former shrine-priestess. I do believe you have heard of Kikyou? My sister who you supposedly murdered?"
Sesshoumaru was not one to show emotions. And, even though this information did come as somewhat of a surprise, it was not as hard a blow as it potentially could have been. He was no fool and bit his tongue as he eyed the priestess warily. He had misjudged her. Indeed she was fiery, like Kagome, but she was also powerful and not afraid to use her power.
Now was not the time to mess up, especially with the end glinting before him like the drops of water hanging from the shrine's awning.
"Supposedly," Sesshoumaru repeated archly, flexing his long nails, "I am the one who killed your beloved sister."
The priestess, Kaede, watched him for another long moment, her face almost as expressionless as his—her eyes only displaying any emotion she felt. She was but a mask in that moment. A floating mask in the rain.
"Yes," she replied curtly, displaying her back to him, a dangerous thing to do before a youkai, "Supposedly. But then again, I have never been one to believe a rumor."
Sesshoumaru smirked. Perhaps there was a ray of sunlight in this grey proverbial storm.
"I see," the youkai replied blandly, taking a step towards her across the white expanse of gravel.
Kaede, her black hair glistening in the rain, turned to face him now, her eyes dead serious, "No, in fact I know you did not kill my sister."
"Then why are you here?" He found himself responding almost automatically. This was a question he was wondering. This place was dangerous—and soon to be more so. It wasn't as though he felt pity for her, or even concern; he just hated to see an entire family wiped out by the likes of the Naraku.
But Naraku would come later, Sesshoumaru swore. Later.
"I am here for the same reason you are here," she replied, picking up the bucket and motioning the two (Miroku temporarily forgotten amongst the ferns) towards the front of the shrine, "To bring about the end to an age of war. A pointless war..."
"Well, I'm glad someone here has any sense left!" Miroku piped up for the first time, wiping some water off his nose (along with the last of the spider-web). The rain was beginning to grow with intensity. The black cloud would soon be upon them and then they would be swimming in the sea.
Kaede chuckled and questioned, "And you might be?"
Miroku, although still in pain from his wound, managed to hobble forward and bow, "The name is Miroku. I am, technically, Inuyasha's advisor—but have been temporarily on 'vacation' for the past few months."
The rain continued to grow stealthily heavier and the bows of the trees began to moan. Perhaps it was only Sesshoumaru who noticed the change, but it was one he did not like. Not only for the darkening skies but for his darkening hopes, should he call them hopes, as well.
The three of them, standing amongst the clearing of white gravel held their tongues for a moment. The sound of a distant screech echoed through the mossy tree tops.
"What was that?" Miroku whispered in apprehension, making his way towards the awning of the shrine that would provide some shelter from the thick rain.
Peering up into the constant swirl of grey fog and cloud, Sesshoumaru squeezed his golden eyes together. He knew exactly what it was, flying against the tide of the storm.
"It is one of my falcons. A general must have sent word." He replied absently, wondering how it was that Miroku could not recognize the call of a falcon. Surely Inuyasha must use the same method for communication. It seemed utterly absurd if he did not.
A shape, dimly recognizable at first, began to take form in the film. Yes, it was one of his falcons indeed, flying high and smooth and slick. Sesshoumaru's raised his arm and waited for the bird to perch itself upon it in a great surge of energy. A few seconds later, in a swoop of movement and brown tawny feathers, Satoshi, Sesshoumaru's favorite falcon for long distant messages, crashed down (rather painfully) onto his arm.
"Is it one of yours?" Miroku called from the awning, all but obstructed by the roar of water.
Nodding, Sesshoumaru made his way as well into the temporary shelter of the shrine, Satoshi now sitting contentedly upon his shoulder, nipping at a strand of his silver hair.
"Well, open it up!" Miroku urged impatiently, slowly lowering himself onto the porch, "It could be something important!"
Giving an irritable scowl to Miroku, he snapped, "Of course it is important. They would not have sent it if it wasn't."
Kaede laughed softly to herself, but neither of the two men noticed.
Unsealing the water-proof case and carefully pulling out the rolled piece of thick mulberry paper, the Lord of the Western Lands internally paled. It was from who he feared; General Inamoto. Sesshoumaru's personal fortress was the only uncertainty in his war. Was this letter explaining of their defeat? The large amount of casualties? Were they now fighting a guerilla war to remain in control?
Sesshoumaru broke the seal and read…
To Lord Sesshoumaru of the Western Lands,
I feel it my honor and duty to inform you of the turn of events that has happened this morning at your fortress. At dawn a group of travelers appeared at the edge of the citadel and turned out to be none other than the Lady Kagome and the wolf bandit, Kouga and his followers. I was most struck by their arrival seeing as how I had previously believed them being sent away for safety. The Lady Kagome had come to inform me that within the hour Naraku's army would be attacking the fortress, and as she predicated, the army arrived not an hour after. The battle was quick and the fortress remained protected. There were few casualties. The Lady and her party shortly thereafter their arrival took to the hills to their previously scheduled itinerary. I will send you again when I have more particulars on the damage and casualties.
General Inamoto
"Well, what does it say?" Miroku questioned hurriedly, trying to read through the thick paper from his seated position.
Sesshoumaru was flabbergasted. Utterly flabbergasted. She had done…what? He had to re-read the letter several times through before he officially allowed the information to filter, ever slowly, into his mind. It fell from one level to another like a drop of rain bouncing from branch to branch.
So, it seemed, Kagome had returned to his fortress. Whether or not he felt pain or guilt or regret he could not say. All he knew was that he would wish himself there immediately if there was any hope of catching a glimpse of the woman he had come to—
--But Naraku had attacked? This news did not come as surprising, about as unsurprising as a monk predicting rain during the monsoon season. And his men had won? They were victorious?
And all thanks to Kagome—the girl now somewhere in the ferny wild, somewhere in the mist.
"It is none of your concern what it says," Sesshoumaru finally breathed with much effort, casting his golden eyes towards the underbrush. He could have sworn he saw a flicker of movement—but no, his eyes must have been deceiving him. He was tired and anxious, he had to remind himself. Even he, the great Lord of the Western Lands, did not work well under pressure such as this.
He did not like to be trapped in a transparent net, as unseen as the wisps of fog.
"What do you mean 'it is none of my concern'?" Miroku shot, standing quite suddenly, though wincing in pain as he had once again temporarily forgotten his injury.
"Sit back down," Sesshoumaru grumbled, slipping the letter into the dim shadows of his garments. There was so much to take care of and so little time. He was a fish out of water, gulping at this horrid air, in hopes of returning to the cool dark place that he longed for so fervently.
Kaede, a stern expression on her face, stood up and announced, "I believe you should come to the front of the shrine. The others who we wait for are sure to arrive from main entrance. You two were brave to face the steep climb of the back-trail which is truly admirable."
Miroku smirked softly to himself—yes, that back trail had been hell, hadn't it? Sesshoumaru just nodded curtly, not sparing any emotions. There were none to be had as it was. His reserves had vanished and what Inuyasha or Naraku saw was all they could expect. For the first time in his life he had no cards up his sleeves, no blackmails, no promises.
There was just him. Struggling alone. Wanting to return.
Their footsteps were muted now as they walked softly from one slick stepping stone to another, small puddles of water trailing in their mist. The pine trees above were silent. There were no birds. No whispers. No conversations. Just the rain and the sound of water.
Sesshoumaru, his eyes averted, his mouth but a thin line of pink against his pale face, scowled inwardly. Although it was only dawn he could feel Inuyasha's presence was growing ever closer. As much as he hated to admit it, he and his half brother were indeed connected. Maybe the hot-headed fool had never noticed but, but Sesshoumaru could tell with surprisingly clarity that his brother was very close. So very close.
And Naraku—what of him? Sesshoumaru was sure the fool would be reappearing before the two of them. Yes, of this his was certain.
But he stopped. As had the two before him. His eyes looked up not expecting to see the vision of red and white before him.
His golden gaze met one of remarkably similar shade.
"Sesshoumaru…," the figure breathed, his chest heaving from the strenuous climb.
So. Inuyasha had arrived.
Against the rain. Against the wet. Against the war.
And now, there was but one path left to walk.
The most intricate and agonizing path of all.
Sesshoumaru took one step forward.
And after that one, one more.
After all, he was a fish in the net.
What more could he do but struggle?
And live.
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Author's Notes: You don't need to know how sorry I am that this chapter took so long. Japan. College. You name it. Please note that chapter 34 is 3/4s of the way finished. Be patient with me. These chapters grow more difficult.
And, as usual, thanks to all contributors, including my beta-readers, Sweat Pea, for this chapter as well as the beta readers also soon to be put back to work with S.P. Taskin Lude! So, e-mail me questions, comments, and as always, read, review, and whatnot. :D