Summary: The hunt begins. Two months of searching has led the young miko, Kuri, to the lord of all demons. But the resons behind her advances have yet to be revealed. A spell is cast... And success is made... but at what cost to the heart of the unsuspecting girl with the purple hair?
Cool breeze the scent of lilac and hyacinth lifted silver strands of hair away from a stern, ethereally beautiful face. Dim twilight rays of sunlight speckled golden eyes, shifting their depths to hazel, amber, bronze. The tittering of small vermin hushed, surrounding the great demon's acute ears with welcome, lulled silence.
Sesshoumaru frowned.
The sunset, a time that would normally bring a mild peace to his mind, brought with it today an unnerving anxiousness. The surrounding cliffs lay, shrouded in the impending dim. Treetops glowed below him like vast fields, awash in fiery afterlight. And the scent of the miko invaded his nostrils.
She had followed him for close to a month now. Feeling safe, he was sure, from the vengeful reach of his clutches. She was foolish. None would be safe from him: Sesshoumaru, Lord of all youkai. A god in the eyes of those worthless filth that were humans. All fell at the mere utterance of his name. And any stupid enough to cross his path would writhe beneath his claws.
His gaze wandered unconsciously to the form that crouched far below him. The cliff's edge jutted haphazardly outward, allowing him to see the vein of water that flowed at its base. Along the rocky shore, meters away and unaware of him, the purple-haired girl seemed to assess her surroundings. Even she was no exception to his wrath.
So why was this human -- this sickeningly weak human -- still alive even now?
Sesshoumaru had known of the huntress. A farmer who had stumbled onto his land had quickly volunteered the information in exchange for his life. It was said, among these humans, that the girl was a miko. That he was sure of, by the scent of her blood. But neither the man, nor his fleeing comrades, could say from where she came. Sesshoumaru frowned once again. He could taste the tinge of fear that wafted from the man's filthy skin as he took this information in. But the usual mechanical acceptance he found in cleansing his land of the mortal was lost to him. He hadn't even realized that he had killed the man, his mind was so engrossed in thought.
There were in truth two of them, he had been told. A child of perhaps sixteen, and the huntress herself. But it was the latter of the two girls that chose to seek him out. The girl was a priestess, strange as she may seem. The farmer had blathered on about the magic she wielded. A power like nothing else. She had been known by these people to have tamed a pure-blooded bear youkai with a simple spell. And her appearance made these powers ever more extraordinary for, upon seeing her, he had felt a twinge to the fact that she was just that. A girl.
A simple girl. Barely more than eighteen, she stood a full head's length below his brow. Or so he had equated, having no interest in allowing the purple-haired thing near enough to be sure. Lavender eyes shone beneath dark lashes. Fair skin gave way to thoughts of how easily she may bruise, but the chestnut boa she hefted like a bamboo twig spoke otherwise.
Yet it was not her appearance, but her calm determination that caught his interest. Unbidden, images of his half-brother's human wench flashed among the rushing torrents of his thoughts. The memory wrung an impatient growl from his lips and he paused for a moment, taking a breath.
Inuyasha... his mind grated. The whelp is long dead. What use can be found in drudging up old memories?
But the usual insistent ache remained lodged in his thoughts, as it always had. It was growing slowly harder for him to brush it aside... With an aggravated toss of his head, he willed the memory of the hanyou into the dark recesses of his mind, returning his attention to the girl that moved along the shore below him.
She was swift, he knew, having allowed her to track him as far as seven miles from the village she had arrived to. But he knew that even this was flawed. She was human. A pest he had allowed to live for the simple want of entertainment. A pet, of sorts, for his indulgence until he tired of her.
Or so he had planned.
But try as he might... Sesshoumaru stared down over the cliff's edge at the head of purple hair that continued its way further inward to the surrounding trees. He could not bring himself to completely believe his own thoughts. There was something… Something in her scent... in the tilt of her head... in the movements of her body...
"Lord Sesshoumaru," Jaken's hideously disturbing voice invaded his consciousness.
Sesshoumaru glared down at the creature now perched awkwardly at the cliff's edge near his feet.
"Um…Lord Sesshoumaru…" the dastardly freak of nature stammered, gripping the wooden staff he carried more securely. "Your pardon, My Lord, but…"
The little toad was cut off by Sesshoumaru's glare, but not for long. Senses alert to his quarry, Sesshoumaru looked down to find his golden gaze met by a pair of curious lavender ones far below him. She watched him timidly, a small hand held to her chest as she breathed rapidly. He narrowed his eyes, studying her, and she took off into the surrounding forest, leaving behind the scent of fear tinted with the silvery magic he had now become inured to.
"My Lord?"
Again, Jaken's voice was cut short as the creature found himself spiraling thirty feet outward into the air, landing face first in the side of a tree a good distance away.
Sesshoumaru looked at his hand. Somehow, the usual satisfaction he took in punishing the little toad was lost to him. And as he took to the diligent rounds of scenting his domain, growling lightly, he knew that something in the girl's scent had very much to do with it...
A half mile away, Kuri ran blindly through the trees. Her breath rasped in frightened bursts as she pushed past a low-hanging branch. Gnarled limbs tore at her clothing as she went, barreling past a large boulder.
He was there all along! he brain screamed as the ache in her legs began to take toll. He knew... He could have killed me if he wanted to...
She slowed slightly, her chest and throat parched. Stopping for a moment, she turned, taking a fearful glance backward.
"Come on, Kuri," she breathed, hands on her knees as she rested, "if he was following you, you'd be dead by now."
Catching her breath slowly, she straightened and looked at her surroundings. The trees had changed, she noted. The thick sense of demon power seemed to not have reached these parts. A light breeze shifted the darkening foliage around her lazily. There seemed a sense of tranquility here, the forest undisturbed by neither man nor beast.
Breathing in the fresh scent of early winter, she sighed.
"At least it was worth the trip," she murmured, looking down at her clasped hand. "I got what I came for..."
There, in the crease of her palm a single, silver strand of hair glistened. A static charge seemed to run along the thing, giving it a strangely beautiful glow. Kuri felt a sudden tug deep inside her. Closing her eyes, she willed the feeling away.
Not now, she sighed, continuing her trek back toward the east. Better get back to camp... Hana's going to slaughter me for being late.
Twisting the strand of hair into a neat coil, she deposited it into the small deerskin pouch at her waist. Pulling her nerves up around her, she quickened her pace. Her step faltered only once as she pushed through the surrounding bushes, the vague sense of longing forcing its way into her thoughts. It was not a time for these emotions, she knew.
Her task here was fulfilled for the day. The fourth of her attempts to cast the taming spell against the demon had proved successful and that was all that mattered... But the urgency at seeing him again refused to leave her. And the mission she had, coupled with a now-consuming need, was all it took for the resolve that the she would soon see him again.
