Shadows Against a Shoji Screen
Chapter 34: Beneath Shadows and Leaves
Sesshoumaru could not have asked for more appropriate weather himself. It seemed to suit the mood perfectly. The black dripping branches surrounded the clearing of the Shrine of the Shikon no Tama with the effervescent droplets crashing down onto the foliage below. The figures were blockaded by the musical symphony of water; water everywhere. The great ferns floating above the brim of the forest floor were in a constant state of movement as though they were gifted with the same strength of the ocean; the ability to ebb and flow.
And now the tide was crashing in.
The wind was subdued although prone to great anomalous gusts that would catch his dampened silver locks and thrash them about violently in the air. And most importantly there was the grey—the color that he seemed to be sinking in. The clouds were low on the horizon; so close that he could have sworn his claws could touch their forms. It was said that when the horizon was low, such as this, a journey's end was near.
He hoped this voyage would end soon indeed.
"Sesshoumaru…," the voice he knew all too well greeted him from across the gravel expanse.
It was none other than his half-brother, Inuyasha, bathed in a throne of red. A muted, dulled, red.
The Lord of the Western Lands opened his mouth, but paused. With this first sentence, with the first word, there would be no going back. It was the point beyond no return. With the first word he would seal his fate to whatever the outcome should be.
He swallowed his pride, the painful dish that it was, and called out, "Inuyasha, at last we meet…"
If the hanyou-lord was unnerved he did not display it, but instead flexed his long razor-sharp claws and smirked, "We've come down to it. You can't escape now. I'll make you pay for everything you've done."
The youkai-lord had been expecting this, but even now he felt imprudent and childish in his purpose. He hadn't a clue on how he was supposed to explain everything to Inuyasha. How was he going to make his fool-hardy brother see against the smoke that blinded his tear-strewn eyes?
But the highest form was no form—and this would be his guide through this wet and slippery landscape.
"Yes, we have come down to it," Sesshoumaru managed, his golden eyes watching the treetops. Where was the expected visitor? Where the hell was Naraku?
"You're going to suffer like you never imagined," Inuyasha continued bitterly, taking a step forward, breaking the invisible boundary between the two.
His footsteps echoed against the white gravel, shifting the small stones. The moss that had grown on the surface was disrupted and floated in the sea of puddles.
"I believe, Inuyasha," Sesshoumaru began at last, his hand resting atop his sword's sheath in a casual manner, "That before you cut me down the middle, stew me and feed me to your dogs you listen to what I have to tell you; for I can assure you that you will regret it if you silence my voice now."
The golden-eyed hanyou sneered and snorted, "Listen? To you? Are you out of your mind?"
Quite possibly, Sesshoumaru sighed inwardly, wondering how much longer it would take for Naraku to arrive—Sesshoumaru's time to act was counted, measured, and begrudgingly given out.
For the first time in his life he would be bare; without protection. It was foolish, utterly foolish—but there was no other way he could manage to make Inuyasha see. He had to make his argument swift and painful—he had to reach the heart of Inuyasha before anyone else could. Yes, there was no other way…
"Just to prove that my intentions are," Sesshoumaru paused. What were his intentions? He certainly wanted to convince the prat that he hadn't slain his lover some odd eighteen years ago, in addition to making it absolutely certain that Naraku was the scum of the earth and would stop at nothing for his control of power—and finally, finally, there was Kagome. Yes, Kagome…. He continued. "…to prove my intentions as just…"
Sesshoumaru's claws reached out for his sword and Inuyasha stiffened, the hanyou's grip having wound painfully about the hilt of Tetsusaiga.
It took only a moment to free himself from the bindings of the sword, and withdraw the blade and sheath as one the youkai lord glanced over his shoulders to find that the priestess Kaede and the advisor Miroku were still there. Much to his relief they had not taken shelter into the dense foliage of drifting ferns, but instead were planted quite firmly behind him, their expressions grave.
He tossed the sword and hilt to a flabbergasted Miroku who caught it in uncertainty and sputtered, "What the devil do you think you are doing S-Sesshoumaru?!"
The youkai said nothing but allowed his lips to turn upwards, "I am showing my underside."
Kaede, stepping forward, her expression as dark and morose as the skies above insisted, "But Inuyasha could kill you—easily! And what of Naraku? What if he should arrive? You are but a sitting duck."
Sesshoumaru only gave a stern look to Miroku and instructed, "Take care of it. I will want it back when Naraku returns."
Inuyasha, as though for the past five minutes hadn't noticed Miroku's frame in the recesses of the shrine, sputtered in amazement and incredulity, "M-Miroku?"
The advisor to Inuyasha gave an apologetic smile, a smile that neither of them quite knew the meanings to. What was the message behind the smile? A smile of apology? Betrayal? Miroku admitted to himself that technically he had betrayed his lord—yet throughout it all his intentions had been pure. The betrayal had been one out of necessity; to save his best friend and lord. It was a betrayal to save the innocent villagers, to stop the bloodshed; it was an honorable purpose. And, even though Inuyasha may yell, kick, scream and bleed—inevitably it was a truth. This war had finally come to an end and the means of accomplishing such a goal was staring at him from across the courtyard.
"Hello, Inuyasha," he greeted, almost sadly, noticing absently that Inuyasha's clothes were ripped in a few places and stained in something that looked quite like blood.
The hanyou lord sputtered to find words to explain his utter shock and disbelief. Why was Miroku—his most trusted companion and friend here? And standing on the side of Sesshoumaru? It just made no sense whatsoever. Then again what did make sense anymore? Why was he here? Why was Sesshoumaru behaving so strangely? Disarming himself no less.
"Why are you here?" He questioned, directing his comment towards his former companion, his voice vibrating with controlled emotion.
"I'm here for the same reason you are," Miroku answered smoothly, too smoothly. It was obvious that this conversation was one he had been expecting for some time. Yes, he knew that these words were to be spoken long before his master had.
"And what is that?" The hanyou raged, gritting his teeth in anger.
"To put an end to this war," the advisor admitted, almost sadly and defeated. He bent his head downward and heaved a great sigh, small streamlets of water trickling down his cheek, giving the appearance that he was crying.
"And have you sided with Sesshoumaru, then?" It was a low, dangerous voice. It was a voice filled with angry sentiments and misunderstandings he had not put right.
"I haven't sided with anyone, you fool," Miroku explained, resting his hands on his hips and looking at those golden eyes across the several meters that they were separated, "I'm here so that you two—," he motioned to Sesshoumaru and Inuyasha in a broad expansive sweep, "Can finally sort out this conflict. And, I think, as your advisor, that you ought to listen to what Sesshoumaru has to say—,"
"—so you've sided with him then! You traitor!"
"I'm just as much a traitor as you, Inuyasha. You who swore you would never align yourself with someone like Naraku—Naraku who as soon as he is finished destroying Sesshoumaru's lands, and Sesshoumaru also being an ally to Naraku, I might add, will come and destroy yours. You're revenge has blinded you, Inuyasha. Just admit that this war has been a mistake from day one!"
The speech of sorts seemed to have exhausted Miroku and he gasped for breath, though still clutching onto Sesshoumaru's sword. He felt for his ribcage and winced, trying to hide any pain he so obviously felt, "Listen," he breathed hoarsely, his voice but above a whisper though all heard, "If you have faith in me, in our friendship, listen what your brother—and this priestess have to say. There can be peace and honor for everyone, you know."
The hanyou's golden eyes erupted into a storm of emotions. What was Miroku saying? How had his best friend been so blinded by the likes of Sesshoumaru?
Yet, studying his foul brother, he did find the turn of events rather odd. The notion that his brother should give up his weapon seemed most unlike him. Inuyasha's golden eyes, now dark brown in frustration, scanned the nearby ferns for soldiers or any sign that he would be ambushed. But there was nothing, just the gentle swaying of the green sea.
"This is no trap," Sesshoumaru noted, almost lazily, following his brother's gaze, "All you see before me is all there is."
"I can see that," Inuyasha stepped forward once again, crossing his arms and feigning an expression of ardent dislike and disinterest. Well, he supposed half-heartedly, if his brother was going to die by his hand he might as well give the youkai his final rights. The beast was unarmed now, venerable, and whenever Inuyasha chose he could rip him from limb to limb. His power over his father's blade had grown greater in the past months as had his swordsmanship in general. "And I guess I'll let you have a word or two. But only because you are pathetic on every level."
Sesshoumaru's jaw tightened and he whispered, "Just because I wish to set things right does not give you a right to throw weighted words. Remember that, brother of mine."
Inuyasha just grunted a 'feh' sort of sound and relaxed his stance, but only somewhat. His hand still clutched Tetsusaiga, prepared, like a cat ready to strike.
At that moment it began to rain harder, not yet so much an onslaught, but quite close to such a level. The ocean of green swayed even more, as did the black and grey branches above the audiences' head. In such confusing weather it was easy to overlook a shadowy figure lofted amongst the thick green pine needles.
The demon-lord in took a shuddering breath and began. He had to make this clear, quick, and precise. He had to make his brother see. To open those golden eyes of such a similar shade to his own. This war had to stop. The countryside could not support their greed for much longer.
And so, he began. Careful and cautious.
"Since this war began I have heard many rumors regarding the reasoning behind it. I have never questioned my motives in attacking; I wished for the sword that you now clutch so desperately—," Inuyasha's grip about its hilt tightened at this remark, "—but as far as your feelings were concerned I usually never troubled myself. I see that this has been my downfall."
Behind him some feet away he heard Miroku murmur anxiously, "Hurry up, Sesshoumaru. I don't have a good feeling about this."
Abiding by his wishes, Sesshoumaru continued hurriedly, the urgency not yet apparent in his voice. Yes, Naraku would soon be upon them as well. He could feel it in his bones. Smell it in the air…
"Now I know that you believed me to have killed your old lover. Is this not true?" He questioned, disinterest dripping off his words.
"I don't deny it—because you did kill her," Inuyasha shrugged moodily, "And sure—," he glanced at Miroku, both apprehensive and mocking, "I did say something along the lines that I wouldn't ally myself with Naraku. I won't deny he is a bastard and I don't trust him with my life, but he did one thing that I had never thought possible. It has come full circle now. I have what I lost; I have Kikyou—,"
Miroku interrupted, his voice ruthless and harsh, "You know that is impossible, Inuyasha. She's dead."
Inuyasha smirked widely, "That, my dear friend, is where you are wrong. He has brought her back to life and she awaits my return. All that remains is to kill you, Sesshoumaru. You have no idea how long I have waited for this day."
Inwardly, Sesshoumaru paled. Naraku's power spread much further than had had imagined. He could bring back people from beyond the grave? No, surely this was not possible. There had to be some way the bastard had gotten around this—some power, not his own, that he was drawing upon.
Opening his mouth to retort to Inuyasha's last lusty remarks he was interrupted by a voice coming from edge of the forest, not some ten meters away, planted in the sea of leafy green.
"Quite right."
No. Not now. Not yet, damn it.
"Oh, Naraku, it's you," Inuyasha remarked, almost indolently, but fear was evident in the dim recesses of his words. He seemed an unwanted member to everyone; but no one had enough gumption to say.
"I do hope you will forgive me," Naraku sighed dreadfully, putting his hand to his cheek and a false troubled expression appearing on his features. He was in his usual array of purple; shade after shade of purples. Deep, dark, light, bright and muted. Tying the display of colors together in a cohesive and singular movement were the flashes of black and silver that flowed like an ocean or river across the cloth.
"Why?" Inuyasha inquired, though it sounded somewhat like a demand.
"Because," Naraku purred in his silky way, "I am about to take your dream away from you."
And in that he leapt high into the air, almost gravity-defying by the pure weight of his clothes, and withdrew from the dark and heavily layered depths of his garments a long and most lethal looking sword. It shone burgundy though its blade was bright silver. The dark lord was upon the youkai almost instantly, his eyes alive with fire and the most toxic venom.
Miroku was glad that, although in pain, he still kept his wits about him and weakly he tossed Sesshoumaru's sword the small distance and watched as the youkai unsheathe it in less than a blink of an eye.
Thunder and lightning crackled on the horizon. And for a moment the figures standing amongst the black and grey landscape were but paper cutouts—two dimensional and moving with the quality of dolls. The eye of the storm was moving closer. The winds picked up about the onlookers, Inuyasha but one of them, his teeth bared and his eyes as tumultuous as the raging skies above. What the devil did Naraku think he was doing? Did he not particularly express that he wished to kill his brother? And, although Inuyasha had been more than prepared to turn Sesshoumaru into a meat, he had been mildly interested in what his half brother had found so 'important' to say, what his brother had been willing and eager to die for. But now it was lost: and Inuyasha would not even allow regret to seep into his body.
But all he could do now was watch and wait until the battle was over. This battle, at least.
The attack came as unpredicted as Sesshoumaru's affections towards Kagome—but there it was. Naraku had crossed blades with him, and for the first time in his life Sesshoumaru had not a clue of who would win this battle. It was a battle of will—not of strength or skill, but survival.
Naraku's sinister eyes were looking down into his own and spitting in his face, Sesshoumaru managed to choke out, "You bastard."
The dark lord seemed unmoved by his statement and increased the pressure causing Sesshoumaru to slide back in the gravel, loosing his footing somewhat. Naraku increasing the pressure ten fold, continued to grin and mock him, his thick lips curling into a smirk as he whispered through the soggy scene, "You knew that I was a bastard when you decided to be my ally. It made no difference to you at the time."
Calling upon on any strength he still possessed Sesshoumaru swung his great sword with all his might causing the clash to cease and the two to be thrown some feet away from one another. The two stood breathing heavily, Sesshoumaru's chest heaving—Naraku looking as though he had just taken a hot bath, each glaring at one another in varying shades of hatred.
"Now it is different."
Sesshoumaru spoke this last phrase and his eyes flickered to Inuyasha's half forgotten frame, his expression growing even more troubled.
"Do you see now, Inuyasha?" He spat across the expanse of grey and white, his breath hoarse and ragged, "Naraku and I were allies against you—and now, look how he betrays me."
Naraku chuckled absently to himself, wiping the droplets that had formed on his red-tinged blade with a long silvery cloth, "That isn't the issue here, Sesshoumaru. Whether or not I am your or Inuyasha's ally isn't the matter—," he paused, looking the epitome of relaxation for a split second. Yet just as unexpectedly, he dashed towards Sesshoumaru who blocked his blow by a fraction of a second, "—for soon both of you will be dead!"
The game was on. The round had begun.
Naraku advanced, his sword pressing against Sesshoumaru's own, high screeching tones of metal filling the atmosphere. But in-between the crashes and bashes the Lord of the Western Lands struggled to remain in control. He had to win this battle—but more so, simultaneously he had to make his brother understand.
"I didn't kill your wench," he sputtered, dodging the sharp pointed tip by a few centimeters and redoubling, hoping to catch the lord off-guard, "It was Naraku. It was his plan. I'm sure of it."
Obviously the attacker did not take a liking to the turn the conversation was going and took the opportunity to release a particularly painful kick in Sesshoumaru's gut.
"You see—?" Sesshoumaru gasped for breath, clutching his abdomen with one hand, "We are just pawns in his game."
Just black and white pieces in his game of Go. He created this universe and has set us out to capture and destroy and…
It was with the expression of utter hatred that Naraku delivered his final blow as he stood towering over Sesshoumaru's bent from. The attack was more painful than Sesshoumaru could ever have imagined. It was not caused by the sword, or metal piercing through his tender flesh—no, nothing so kind. No, it was an attack of the darkest kind—one that only a powerful youkai could call upon—that of sorcery. The dark lord's eyes became only slits of black and his lips moved rapidly, too fast to comprehend the meaning—
—Sesshoumaru collapsed in a shuddering groan, his body shaking abnormally, and his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. He was now but a tortured insect with no hope of escape.
The rain became heavier, drowning out Sesshoumaru's gasps for breath and covering his blue tinged skin in torrents of water that failed to cool his overheated brow.
"What your dear brother forgot to mention is that while you presumed your wife to be under the care of this—," he motioned to Miroku with an idle sigh, "—trusted person of yours, she was in actuality participating in a liaison between this decrepit figure flopping about like a fish."
This was an idea that had never struck the hanyou lord, but Inuyasha was still put off by the words his brother had spoken and the actions that Naraku had partaken in. It seemed impossible that his half-brother could open his heart to anyone, human or youkai alike. But was it that Sesshoumaru actually cared for Kagome—or was it revenge pure and simple against him? He paled. H-Had Kagome become taken advantage of?
If Inuyasha had anything in his stomach he felt as though he vomited it out then and there.
Still, Naraku was the slime of the earth and anything that spewed forth from the monstrosity's mouth had to be taken with a grain of salt. Turning to his most trusted companion, he whispered, "Is this true, Miroku?"
The advisor could not find the words to speak. He did not doubt for a second that Kagome and Sesshoumaru had an affair—but had Sesshoumaru taken advantage of the girl? Had they actually…? He could not say. Miroku did not want to believe it was so and somehow, against all hope, he knew that Sesshoumaru's intentions had always been pure. It had just been the unfortunate mistake that the girl had been married, to none other than his despised brother.
Both Naraku and Inuyasha took Miroku's silence as an affirmative to the question.
Had there been any pity in Inuyasha's heart as he watched his plagued brother be tormented by the wayside it quickly dissolved like his silent tears that trickled down his face. The tears that trickled, and mingled, and ebbed and flowed down his face.
"How could you…," Inuyasha spat quietly, his voice rumbling like the overhead thunder. "How could you?! I didn't think even you could sink so low…"
Miroku's eyes, dilated in emotion flashed from Inuyasha's anguished form to Sesshoumaru's crumpled figure in the mud; the youkai's golden eyes staring out unseeingly into the grey. No, the youkai was not dead. Perhaps far from those twilight realms…but he was hanging on to the cliff of reality and imagination, conscious and unconsciousness. It was now Miroku's turn to enter the scene.
How could he not? Although Inuyasha was his best friend there were larger, greater, more magnificent things hanging on that cliff that Sesshoumaru now found himself upon.
"Inuyasha," he croaked, truly finding his voice for the first time, "I understand your hatred. Believe me, I understand…but listen," he licked his lips, blinking back the rain that was soaking his dry cotton-filled mouth, "Listen and understand. Right now this isn't about your hatred for your brother. You can deal with that later. Remember, you have the sword that you can use to your advantage. But listen. Please listen. You know, I know you do, that Naraku is just controlling us all. That is what this whole episode has been—these wars."
Miroku took a short breath that helped to stabilize him, even if the anger in Inuyasha's eyes knocked the wind from the mouth, "I give you my word that Sesshoumaru did not kill Kikyou all those years ago. Yes, the person who killed Kikyou may have looked like Sesshoumaru…but why would Sesshoumaru kill her? What would he have to gain? It would just bring him further apart from the sword that he wanted."
He was beginning to sound frantic now. And Miroku, casting a wary glance towards Naraku noticed that the being's lips had begun to curl in anger. He had to speak quickly, rapidly, or soon he would be a crumpled heap on the ground like Sesshoumaru.
"It just doesn't make sense—how could it have been Sesshoumaru? When he was in Edo at the time? But Naraku, Naraku makes sense! What would he have to gain from it? Well, he was planning ahead, you see. He knew what would be happening at this very instant. He planned this all. To make you and Sesshoumaru greater enemies than you once were—to wreck war upon the land, to become each of your ally's, secretly plotting against one another to—,"
But no words came from Miroku's mouth, and almost instantly he fell to the ground, his breathing heavy and labored.
Naraku just picked at his nails, not even sparing his victim a glance.
"What did you do to him!?" fumed Inuyasha, facing towards his calm companion who was resting against the trunk of an accommodating tree, "What did you do!?"
"I? I hardly did anything. The poor bloke was half mad, couldn't you see? Or am I the only one with common sense nowadays? Didn't you see his wound? My dear boy, the thing was at least a day or two old and was green about the edges. The rot must have gone to his system, and, no doubt to his mind. It was just unfortunate that you actually took your former companion's words to heart, very unfortunate indeed."
The hanyou lord blinked. What? His eyes flashed to Miroku's fallen body, his chest facing the sky. It was true. Miroku had suffered a wound, and although it did look serious or so inflamed as to have poisoned the man's body and mind.
A slight wash of fear began to trickle through Inuyasha's veins.
His brother had been cast down so easily. His stupid half-brother had not even resisted the attack—or hardly at all. What was the devil was he trying to prove? That Sesshoumaru was indeed a pawn? Or had Inuyasha's assumptions on his brother's strength always been grossly overestimated? He did not know.
He didn't know anything anymore.
Inuyasha had come to this temple of his youth with such hopes and ambitions to finally put the precedent where it belonged—in the past. He had come to revenge a death that had long remained in limbo. He had come to put an end to this war.
And now like grass in the wind, Inuyasha was beginning to bend.
The question remained; whose will was he bowing to? Sesshoumaru's? Naraku's?
The hanyou lord stepped forward, his bare feet scarred and red after having walked up the main gravel-filled pathway that led to the shrine's tori. His cloak was the same color as that greeting gate, and even at that moment passing under it's depths he felt guilt; the guilt that blood was to be shed. At that moment in time he had presumed it would be his abominable brother that would lie as he did so now, in the ground; with eyes unseeing.
But now…now…
"Stop," a cold harsh voice commanded from the direction where Miroku now lay, mirroring the form of his fallen brother, "You cannot do this Inuyasha. You know you cannot."
Naraku, some odd feet away from the tortured form of the hanyou scoffed, "What do you know of what Inuyasha can or cannot do?"
The woman, brushing away her hair that had fallen before her face, spat, "I know nothing of what Inuyasha will or will not do. But if he is to do it, let him do it of his own free will—without you involved."
Chuckling, Naraku quipped, "I? Involved? I do not know of that which you are alluding to. I am merely Inuyasha's ally in war—,"
"—as you were to Sesshoumaru! And look at him now! You have destroyed him!" She continued, biting her lips, pity surfacing to her eye as she looked at the fallen youkai.
"I have not destroyed the youkai. Do not loose faith in the monster so quickly. You of all people would know, Kaede sister of Kikyou, that monsters are not so easily defeated." Naraku shifted his eyes to Sesshoumaru's fallen figure, mud splattered, and soaked through with the continual water. The confounded rain, "This youkai still lives. He is just biding his time."
Inuyasha, having listened to the conversation in awe, blinked, "You…," he pointed towards Kaede, groggily, as though half in a trance, "I remember you. You and your husband came to visit me and said—,"
"—it matters not who she is. She is worthless in this war—," Naraku cut in lustily, his eyes dark and dangerous. Inuyasha did not see the daggers, but the person facing opposite him saw them glimmer in the grey light.
"—you know I am not worthless. You know what I can do, Naraku, that is why you fear me…," Kaede seethed angrily, bringing forth her bow and quickly stringing an arrow onto the taught string, "Do not tempt me, Naraku. I have waited and planned for this day."
"Well, you did a very poor job of that it seems," Naraku chuckled half-heartedly, his tone sarcastic and scathing. His plump lips formed the words with such cruelty that even the quick-tongued miko could think of no response, but instead stared at the dark lord in utter hatred, her stance taut and ominous.
"There has been enough time wasted, Inuyasha. Strike, cut him down. You may think that he has been destroyed by the likes of me—but Sesshoumaru is stronger than what you may believe and what it may appear. Take the chance. I dare you."
And with those words that Naraku spoke, there was nothing else that needed to be said. Any apprehensions that Inuyasha might have harbored in his heart, any fears, any doubts, they fell away from him now. Even the rained seemed repelled from him. For, if there were any regrets that still lived—they did not exist now. They had disappeared with all reason. They had flown to another world—a world of hope and merriment; a world that seemed to have eluded him for some time.
Inuyasha's grip on Tetsusaiga tightened. He would wield his father's sword now, against the object he had been waiting to kill for so long. He stepped forward, one foot after another. And no one stopped him. It seemed too surreal. Naraku only watched. Miroku could say nothing, for unlike his brother, he truly was unconscious—as for Kaede there was nothing she could do. Even a blessed arrow would not stop the likes of him.
His lips turned down into a greedy lustful sneer and raising the great sword, almost feather light above his head, he crashed down. He was the storm.
Sssssssshwingg….
It hissed like a viper, a snake. This was indeed the ultimate attack he had waited so long to tame. And now, what better reason did he need than to strike down the thing who had been the cause of all his sorrow, the loss of all his hopes, of all his dreams.
Kaze ni mukatte tsuba suru…
To split against the wind. He could feel it in soul now, that somewhere, somehow, this revenge would torture him for the rest of his life. But there was nothing left. There was no other type of hope. His life, the past eighteen years, were for this one moment. How many nights had he sworn to do this? How many times had he promised to bathe himself in his brother's blood?
He could not go against it now…even if fate was wrenching his head and his heart in the opposite direction.
And the blade fell onto his brother…his brother…As the old saying went; there are instances when an arrow will stick into a rock; such was the force of Inuyasha' determination.
And down crashed the blade.
…The next thing Inuyasha became conscious of was a deep dull pain in his back. He opened his eyes blearily. It took him a moment to situate himself when he had he noticed with some confusion that he was twenty, or perhaps thirty, feet from where he had been formerly standing not a moment ago.
Gingerly, he climbed slowly to his feet, swearing slightly at the pain he felt on his rear side. From the looks of it he had slammed into a very old, very ancient tree that had not accommodated itself to his presence in a way the hanyou would have hoped. To put it succinctly, he had slammed into the tree by…by the force of something.
Blinking towards where Sesshoumaru had formerly lay, he found that he could hardly see through the thick fog—but wait, was this fog? It did not have the texture of the cloud. No, it seemed like dust, or perhaps smoke. Yes, that was what it was. Smoke.
He coughed slightly, realizing he had been taking large drafts of the air. Yet still, he peered into the miasma, resting atop the hilt of his sword. What had happened?
The hanyou lord heard coughing off to the side, so, he figured, he must have not been the only one to survive this. It seemed that Kaede had survived as well, but what had happened?
"You under estimate me…," a deep, scratchy whisperer announced through the smoke entrails.
It was a voice Inuyasha could have recognized in his grave, that of his half-brother, Sesshoumaru.
B-but how!? How!? Inuyasha swore angrily. How could he have fought off my attack? He was sprawled in the dirt half dead! How the—
"It is a rare instance," The voice continued, almost softly, almost tenderly, "That the piece of shit could be right."
"What do you mean!?" Inuyasha snarled out. He could not find the direction or location from whence the voice was emitting. It seemed all around him now, constantly shifting, circling, like a falcon above him.
"I am not as weak as you surmise my dear half brother. Although, I will not deny that the bastard did some damage." The deep tone continued, almost mocking.
The world spun around Inuyasha. Grey, wet, rain, misty trees, the gravel, fog, smoke—but from the world that he was now lost in where had his brother dashed to? But, more importantly, where had Naraku escaped to?
Inuyasha's blood went cold. Had Naraku abandoned him to the likes of his half-deranged kin?
"Where are you!?" The mad hanyou called in bitter anger, flailing his sword about, almost childishly.
"I am…," the voice whispered, causing the hairs on the back of Inuyasha's neck to stand on end, "Right behind you."
Inuyasha was aware of that physical sensation again, that same dull pain in his back. But, he also became aware of a sharp piercing that was encircling his neck growing more profound with every passing moment. It was a nearly impossible to open his eyelids, but open his eyelids he did.
"You fool," The figure before him whispered, the golden eyes glinting in malice, "You are but a fool to think I could be struck down so easily…"
Inuyasha struggled, kicked, gasped for breath, but no avail. There was but the rain and smoke and the clenching hand about his throat draining his life. Inuyasha lost the grip on Tetsusaiga and heard it fall to the ground in muted slosh.
And as quickly as that, Inuyasha was defeated—his will, still burning with anger and hatred was no match for the supreme power that his brother possessed. It seemed utterly impossible that his brother could be so strong…and just with one hand holding him down against the jagged bark of the tree that cut into his back, perhaps sharp enough to draw blood.
Had he had breath to cry out in pain there would have been no doubt that Inuyasha would have been screaming with a strength that traveled above the rim of the forest. For not only was it the tree and the pressure against his neck, but there was something else, a burning sensation on his half-brother's hands, that seared into his skin; the hand was white hot.
Suddenly, quite suddenly, there was a dull muted pulsating sound, almost as though it was spinning through the air—an object, moving fast…and Inuyasha, through half pealed eyes, saw with some fear a large metal object hurtling towards his brother. He did not cry out—for if this blade stabbed Sesshoumaru his pain would finally be over and he would be rid of the bastard brother once and for all.
Sesshoumaru seemed unaware, his golden eyes glowing in lust and revenge, a carnal smile spilling over onto his thin lips…
But there was something wrong; Inuyasha noticed in the back of his mind, right before the blade came slamming into his brother's back. Something just didn't seem right with his brother. His eyes were…
It was too late, and his brother let out a wrenching scream—yet not so tortured as it ought to have been. It almost sounded a stage cry of pain—as though it was not that excruciating. Almost instantly Inuyasha was let hold out of his degraded brother's grasp.
He coughed in a fit of pain; not daring to touch his neck for it still throbbed with the pulse of his brother. He stumbled forward, slightly, his legs feeling quite weak beneath his weight as though he could not support himself, as though his brother had been sucking the very energy out of him.
Inuyasha turned and watched Sesshoumaru collapse to one knee, through smoke, not two feet away from him. The blade, upon slicing his brother's back had emitted a large fountain of blood that spluttered out of the gash in his back like a geyser that was to eventually subside to a steady flow. It bathed half of Inuyasha's body in a purplish color.
The hanyou lord stared down at his bloodied clothes and blinked. The blood…the blood was purple…
He could not fit any more thoughts together, for even those themselves were interrupted by another voice emitting out of the fog, very much like Sesshoumaru had done not a few minutes before.
"How very foolish of you," the voice rasped, steadily, although slowly approaching, "How could you be so blind…" it continued.
The sounds of footsteps against the gravel could be heard. The cough of Kaede in the background; still lost in the reign of terror that this mysterious smog produced. And still, the steps grew ever near. There were muffled steps. Slow steps. Uneven steps. As though he who walked (for Inuyasha had determined it was a he by the tone in his voice) was suffering from a great injury, for the steps were that of a person who limped.
"You lost him now…," the voice continued, not but ten feet away, "You could have had him kill me…I would have been out of the way. You realize that now, don't you Naraku?"
Naraku? Inuyasha thought dimly, finding his mouth parched and heated. Where is he?
Through the damnable smog—which had appeared so suddenly, it appeared, stealthily, like a cat through the underbrush.
"Yes…," a deep voice, one Inuyasha had come to know too well over the course of the past months. It was a deep and cunning voice, filled with conflicting currents, both deep and shallow; beneath and above the surface, "I have been known to be greedy. But it seemed quite reasonable at the time…"
Inuyasha slowly turned his head and peered into the haze that was, finally, beginning to dissipate. What he had presumed to see, sprawled against the tree in a pile of blood, was not what greeted his eyes. Nay, there was no fallen figure of his brother. There was no Sesshoumaru. Instead, it was Naraku, gingerly lifting himself from the gravel and brushing off his plum-colored robes as though he had just awoken from a nap out in a sun-filled meadow. There was no wound. There was no blood. There was no Sesshoumaru.
No…Sesshoumaru…Inuyasha thought dimly.
No, far from it indeed.
The sound of heels against gravel alerted his attention to the figure behind him, which now, emerging from the fog, turned out to be his wounded brother, dripping in his own blood with the same fervor of the rain above, limping very badly; but his eyes remained resilient. His eyes still remained strong and furious—furious, Inuyasha noted, not towards him, but towards the purple clad figure not twenty feet away.
"You are the fool, Naraku." Sesshoumaru breathed heavily, his voice scratchy and his tone labored. He took his breath in great large gulps, wincing every time he managed to form words. "You know you have revealed your underside…to Inuyasha…,"
The hanyou lord, blinked up at his brother, his face grim and resolved against the creature that had guided him towards the brink of death not a moment before. Naraku had been right about one thing—his brother was indeed stronger than he initially believed. And as Inuyasha stared at him he noticed, perhaps for the first time, that Sesshoumaru was behaving naturally towards Inuyasha's own existence. For the first time, in Sesshoumaru's point of view, he wasn't a thing to be overlooked or cast aside like a toy one had grown out of.
Inuyasha existed. And although this brought little solace to the relationship that had been as rocky as the slope of Fuji-san since his birth, Inuyasha began to feel a creeping sense of doom and despair.
It was beginning to seem, much against his will, that his brother, in the end, once again, as always had proven him correct.
Yet Inuyasha could not be sure. Not quite yet.
Finding his voice, he questioned roughly, not towards Naraku, but towards the slumped figure that was now making its way to a fallen log to lean against, "What do you mean, Sesshoumaru?"
"This is how he did it." The silver haired youkai answered simply, his long blood stained fingers gently brushing against the brilliantly green moss that was growing on the fallen tree.
Sesshoumaru sank into that green, closing his eyes, trying to steady his irregular breathing and his agitated nerves.
Soon, he thought, soon this will all be over.
What all of 'this' was he didn't know. If this was his life, if this was the war, if this was Naraku—he couldn't say. But something, something needed to happen damn it. Even if he died, even if that was his fate. It needed to happen soon. This limbo was as torturous as the slow coming of the sun on an anticipated sunrise. To have had to wait all night—to watch the stars and the clouds align just so…and to wait for the main character in the scene.
The main character was not yet upon them. But soon, Sesshoumaru hoped, soon.
What Sesshoumaru did not know was that in this play there was not just one main character but two.
Blearily, Sesshoumaru stared at his half-brother, covered in Naraku's throne of violet blood—as purple and dark as the clothes he wore now. So dark it could easily be mistaken for black in the correct lighting.
"Did what?" his brother questioned angrily, confusedly.
Why can't the boy just fit the pieces together? They are right there in front of him, waiting, and staring at him idiotically like he is looking at me now. Why do I have to be patient when I am dying?
"What do you think?" Sesshoumaru seethed, grasping at a wound on his shoulder that had just erupted, most likely, Sesshoumaru surmised, from the power of Naraku who was staring at him, mostly angrily, from across the expanse. It was not an attack to kill. Naraku was toying with Sesshoumaru, for even Naraku was biding his time…waiting…waiting…
"That was how he killed Kikyou." Sesshoumaru finally decided upon simply, leaving the rest, or what most he could, up to his brother's imagination, "Naraku has the power to take other people's forms. I was wondering—," he paused, gasping for a breath, "—Wondering how Naraku pulled it off so many years ago. But now I know. He did exactly what you saw there…"
And that was it.
"What…?" Inuyasha whispered hollowly, still not moving from his position on the ground: a place he seemed to have become rooted to. His golden eyes were a swarm of emotions—misunderstanding, regret, fear, and finally, finally, it rested upon hatred.
As frantic as fish in a net.
If Inuyasha was to do anything, if Inuyasha would have found his sword and drawn it upon Naraku—it was never to be known. For it was in that instance that Naraku, still standing coolly by the tree, in a trail of plum robes rose in a sweep of motion to a large branch of a pine tree some twenty feet up in the air. The two, looking at him with looks of scorn and incredulity said nothing. For each subliminally knew that it was now time for Naraku's explanation of it all…an explanation that was long overdue in the eyes of the world.
The dark lord, from high in his perch in the tree, grinned broadly, as though some lively music took place in the background and he could not help but smile.
"Yes, I have been known for greed and lust, haven't I Sesshoumaru?" he quipped arranging himself most comfortably above the needles, his long robes hanging beneath him, seemingly deflecting the water from high above, and glinting even in the grey light that seemed so stationary and unchanging as though it was time itself, "You saw it with your own eyes in the cellar of your incampment."
Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed.
"Yes, I was so close to your precious Kagome…And now," Naraku chuckled dryly, "All we have to do is wait…"
"Wait for what?!" Inuyasha called down from the forest floor, finally rising to his feet, his hands curled into balls of anger.
"For her to appear. She will come eventually, and then at that moment all but one piece will be assembled. But then again, that can be taken care of with no great deal whatsoever."
"What are you talking about!?" Inuyasha snarled from below, grabbing Tetsusaiga and brandishing it threateningly, as though Naraku would be afraid. Something that Naraku decidedly wasn't. He was much too powerful to care about the mere trifles of a dead youkai's sword he had left to his son. It surprised him that such a learned and sensible youkai as Sesshoumaru would fall prey to the likes of a mere piece of metal. It was pathetic.
But in the end, weren't they all? Including him?
He. Naraku. He who had done this all for love, a concept that shouldn't exist. It shouldn't be allowed to exist, he mused annoyed, making random drawings in the air that hung in the rain in an icy-blue smoke, the same sort of vapor that he had created to corner Inuyasha. That hadn't gone as planned. It would have been easier to have Inuyasha dead before he started the day's main festivities.
Yet whether Inuyasha or Sesshoumaru was alive or not really didn't matter.
All he cared about was his glimmering jewel. His beautiful Kagome.
What did it matter if he amused the fools down below for a few seconds while they waited?
"I don't deny it," Naraku began archly, glancing down at the seething Inuyasha in amusement swimming profusely through his dark orbs, "I killed her. All those years ago. You never asked. You didn't want to believe—why? Well, it makes sense, of course. Why would you question the man—or youkai, I should say, who will help you succeed in your mission which you have planned for the past eighteen years? Why suspect your right hand when it is your left hand you are watching like a hawk? And believe me, I didn't mind going unnoticed. It made things quite easier on me."
The rain continued to fall harder—as though with each increasing drop the truth was crashing down upon Inuyasha who had been too blind to see. The rain was blinding him, the truth had blinded him, and ignorance had blinded him. So, all this time, he had been the fool. It wasn't a surprise. Inuyasha was often portrayed that way. But never—never had he been manipulated so skillfully before.
Of course, there had been fear and questioning and resentment, but never—never had Inuyasha thought Naraku was behind the whole affair. Never would he have guessed.
That is a lie; Inuyasha's heart whispered to himself softly, you knew it all along…you just didn't want to believe it. To go along was just easier…and you were tired of fighting….
So very tired…
There was nothing Inuyasha could say. The truth spoke for itself.
"And what would I have said had you asked for my advice? I would have said, 'You must strike while the wind blows in our favor, Inuyasha," he heard Naraku whisper among the droplets, "You must take your advantages at the time they present themselves. Here is your moment. Kill him now and let this war be over. Take his lands and revenge Kikyou's death! She was killed at dawn and let us finally put her honor to rest this evening!' But even if I had said such words to you, I have no doubt you would have mistaken their true meaning. You would have presumed I referred to your half brother. But there, in your ignorance were you wrong."
"Do not place yourself too high on that holy pedestal of yours, Naraku. You come from the slums of the earth, this you know," Sesshoumaru called, not bitterly, but merely stating a fact. A universal fact that for so long had gone unsaid in the whispers of time.
"I do not deny this. But life is not what you are born from—life is what you become. Through your own choices. Who would have believed that I, a son of a common prostitute, would grow to become the most feared and wealthy creature in all of Japan?"
"Yes, but you did not do so honorably. You know this, as does everyone else who has ever set sight on you and your compounds," the silver-haired youkai continued, glaring up at the youkai that was slowly killing him minute by minute.
His vision was beginning to blur. But that was of no matter. Life didn't matter, in the end. When this war was over—what would greet him but an empty house? Those blue eyes had disappeared like the blue sky overhead.
"What does it matter how I came to be? What does it matter that I managed to out-wit you and your brother in the end? If I came to reign supreme by even more underhanded means it wouldn't bother me, truly. For what is life if you don't truly live it to your best degree? In any case, I find that the person in question has entered the outer barriers of the shrine."
What…? Inuyasha whispered to himself, momentarily forgetting Naraku and turning to face the main gate of the shrine under which the tori glistened through the maze of trees that clung about them like a child to its mother. He could find no scent—the rain hung everything down and mixed the smells together with such a confusing precision that he could not even sense his brother's aroma, or even Miroku's smell, even though they were only a few feet away in the courtyard.
Inuyasha cast a stray eye towards his fallen friend and found, much to his relief that Kaede had moved into the protection of the shrines overhanging awning. He noticed, also thankfully, that his friend was still breathing, if not shallowly. There was so much to sort out once this whole affair was over—that was, if he was to survive it in the end, which, was beginning to seem unlikely. Naraku's plans seemed and as complex and as wide spread as a master at Go, seeing six or even ten moves ahead.
Sesshoumaru, his half brother, was in no state to leave…and Miroku seemed in as bad, if not worse shape than he. And Inuyasha, what of himself? Once this mysterious 'character' arrived—would he be subjected to the same fate? Tetsusaiga obviously had no affect against the man who had had called his ally for most of the summer—and besides the sword, there was nothing else that could truly cause damage to the lord.
Naraku seemed impossible to kill. A true demon.
"Ah…," Naraku whispered. His eyes alit as though someone had struck a flame from behind their dark depths, "She has arrived…"
"She?" Inuyasha questioned, blinking, and turning to face the tori once again, squinting through the rain droplets.
"Yes…She…," The dark lord hissed in a snake-like quality, his white teeth shining in contrast to his tanned skin. His eyes were gleaming mad now, as though the fruit of the most delicious quality had finally ripened into being and he would be the first, the one, and the only to taste his harvest.
Sesshoumaru, on the other hand looked up, his labored breathing, the same question as his brother's dripping off his lips. …She…? Would it be Kagome? Hope and anger raged inside his being—there was a longing to see her again, just one last time: but never under circumstances such as these. Never when Naraku was within ten feet of her, or even ten miles or leagues…for Sesshoumaru knew that Kagome was a temptation that Naraku could not resist.
But to see her one more time…
Blinking blearily at his reflection in the temple puddles, Inuyasha heard the steps first—even though a hanyou, his ears were finely trained, if not more so than his youkai brother who was suffering from his various injuries that had now caused him to double over. Naraku, even though a youkai and one of the most powerful beings that had even lived was not so trained as to be able to discern the plops of rain with the stomp of foot against the slick dirt.
"She's here…," Inuyasha whispered, biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood.
But who, he wondered, was she? The hanyou had a sinking feeling in his stomach that it would be Kagome—but after so long, and after the information of what had happened between her and Sesshoumaru—how could he face her, Kagome who was still his lawfully wedded wife?
The thought of Kikyou had not even entered his mind. It was as unheard of as the cherry blossoms of spring opening in such a late season as this.
And so, when the form of Kikyou appeared, dressed in traveling clothes, no less, Inuyasha was speechless.
It came as no surprise that Naraku hardly as winded as all the other members seemed to be.
The figure approaching stopped, her dark eyes wide, her lips parted. For the first time Inuyasha had ever seen, the woman he loved and cherished looked afraid, fearful, but most importantly, weak.
She moved forward, her rain wrecked figure appearing to blend in with the earthy landscape, the backdrops of ferns moving behind her.
"Inuyasha…," Kikyou breathed, moving ever closer towards his still figure, "Are you alright?"
The silver-haired hanyou, finally recovering his voice, questioned incredulously, but not angrily, "I'm fine, but what are you doing here?"
She opened her mouth to speak. To answer. To explain. To finally explain it all, the reason that she had forced herself away from safety and into the arms of this blood stained hanyou, "I—," she began.
"It doesn't matter why she is here. In the end, she would have ended up exactly where she is standing at this moment," a deep harsh voice commanded from high atop in the branches of the tree.
Naraku had not moved. In fact, if it was possible, he looked even more comfortable and content in that tree than ever: his robes falling about him as though he was blossoming from an array of silks and satins; a black rose that huddles at the edge of the forest attracting all onlookers to its dark primeval beauty.
"What do you mean? What are you saying?" Sesshoumaru spoke this time, finding that his brother, if pushed too hard, might become too brazen and brought towards the edge, as his clothes previously demonstrated.
"I thought that you, of all people, would understand my actions, Sesshoumaru. But once again, I am disappointed with you; although I'm sure we could have had our fun." The wild-haired being chuckled, absently raising his right hand and pulling out of thin air a red string that glowed faintly in the dim light of the cloud covered day. "You know I have the power for people to obey my will. It always amused me how Inuyasha never questioned how Kikyou returned to life—and even if he did, there was nothing he could do."
"There was something he could have done," Kikyou insisted, her words dripping like the scenery, with secondary meanings. Meanings that were only shared between herself and the figure seated regally in the tree.
The wind howled and lashed through the thicket.
"Yes, but he would have never done that. Especially…," Naraku paused and licked his lips deliciously, "After you consummated your love."
There was a long lengthy pause and all parties fell silent, lost in their own reverie among the transient clouds.
"Well, never mind. You are here now, Kikyou, and I am sure none of you can second guess who I will call here now. In fact, if you are as dense as that Inuyasha, not to have some sort of inkling, then you disappoint even my low standard upon you."
"You can't!" Kikyou screamed, almost in hysterics, jumping forward as though she would claw the tree down and tear out Naraku's dark deep-set eyes.
"Oh, indeed I can." Naraku sneered wildly, "Indeed I can. You know me not to be a forgiving person, and why is it that you think that now, of all times, I will change my way…?"
Kikyou rushed forward but was held back bitterly by Inuyasha with all his might, despite his weakened state after days of traveling without much food or rest. In Inuyasha's arms Kikyou spun around to face him, "Don't be foolish. He'll kill you if you do anything rash…!"
Crumpling into her lover's arms, she admitted bitterly, "He would kill me anyway."
Sesshoumaru, eyed Naraku warily. He had a very good idea of who was connected to that red string that seemed to span time and space. And, only a moment later, his suspicions were confirmed. There was a deafening crack and a sudden bright light—as though lightning had struck at their feet.
And there—sprawling against the muddied forest floor lay Kagome Higurashi.
"The time has come…," Naraku whispered, his dark eyes piercing deep into her sprawled figure.
He was right.
The final curtain was being raised. The last act to this play had begun.
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AN: Tori: a shrine gate, usually painted in a bright red.