Author's Note: Long, and melodramatic. I've barely realized that I had never mentioned that this contains movie 3 spoilers. So'unga is the sword mentioned in the title, "Sword of the Honorable Ruler." Please read and review. This is pretty much the end, with a small epilogue to follow. Thank you.
Chapter Eight: So'unga's Heir
Once when Sesshoumaru was a pup, he ran away from home. He was barely out of his infancy when it happened, a young child learning to assume other forms. He was still weak on two feet, and uncertain of his own reflection when it was caught and shone back to him. Sesshoumaru was afraid of his human guise back then, but assumed it more often then his true form because it made his mother smile to see him look like her and not his father. So Sesshoumaru would smile and obey her because his young, innocent mind knew nothing of the cause. He saw things clearly in black and white. If there was something his mother could not give him, he was just as assured his father would.
It was this knowledge that had taken Sesshoumaru to his father that day with the small brown sparrow in his pale, human hands.
The bird had been Sesshoumaru's pet long before he had an aviary to house such creatures. It stayed in a cage above Sesshoumaru's bed, overlooking the outside. Sometimes, when he was in human form, Sesshoumaru would take the sparrow from its cage and watch it fly about, or rest on his fingers and sing to him in its humble song.
Sesshoumaru had explained that he had been playing with the bird in his true form. Tickling the bird, he had explained, with his paws or tail. The sparrow had jumped into a corner, and Sesshoumaru had rushed into the corner. In his youth, the dog-pup had streaked across the floor, crushing the sparrow underfoot.
It was an accident, Sesshoumaru explained quietly, and now he wanted his father to make it better. The Inu no Taisho felt his heart twist a little, and kneeled to meet his young son's eyes. He explained gently but truthfully that the sparrow had died, and from death there was no return. He explained that not even he could remake such things, correct such mistakes.
Sesshoumaru stared up at him with those clear, honeyed eyes of his and said simply. "I hate you."
Then he had run.
It was midmorning the next day when Inutaisho finally returned home with his son in his arms. Sesshoumaru's robes were torn, and there was a scratch on his cheek. The pup was exhausted, fingers dancing idly with his father's hair in slumber. The boy had fallen asleep shortly after his father had retrieved him. Inutaisho looked waned and weak and furious with himself.
He had sworn then his son feel such hurt again.
This was the image running through Inutaisho's mind as he stormed into the courtyard of his palace, with the brothers of the Wild Packs on his heels. It had been Ryuhoji who found Tajomaru, and told them of Sesshoumaru's deal with Goromaru. Inutaisho had only half-believed the young demon until he had seen the Scorpion armies peel back from the Western Lands like shadow fleeing sunlight. The Dog General had ascended to the highest plain to watch the armies pull back from the Western Lands.
He knew, acutely, that the Scorpions had won the battle tonight. He was quite certain that his armies would not have lasted the night and suddenly, because of his son and a promise the Western Lands had been saved.
His son's promise.
The Inutaisho could only wonder what he had sold off to gain peace.
He burst into the Compound, tossing Totosai off his back as he went, and pushing away from Tajomaru and Ryuhoji. From the courtyard he could see lights and hear shouting from Senshomi's rooms. Pushing back his fear and worry, Inutaisho let his hand to So'unga at his side as he rushed forward.
The scene that greeted him invoked another memory.
Joruri had been on her feet the moment Inutaisho had come bursting her rooms. Despite her nakedness, despite her flustered appearance and the sense that something was terribly wrong, Inutaisho was certain he had never seen Joruri look as majestic as she did then, upon facing her death. Her icy blues eyes ran over Inutaisho hungrily, waiting. The curtain of her ivory hair lopes around her powerful, waning frame as she sets her chin and turned to stare him down. The only article of adornment she has is So'unga. She is gripping it tightly in her right hand, so tightly her knuckles are turning red.
Usagi was staring at Inutaisho from his place in Joruri's bed, waiting for the silent order to raise and assist in this unholy action. As her blue eyes rested on his, the Inutaisho was suddenly struck with the truth behind the situation.
What he did now, he would do solely for lust. He cared nothing for the Western Lands, for the well being of the people, or for the right path. His actions tonight would mar him forever, would break down the dignity that came from being a General and would make him nothing more then a thief in the night. He would take what he wanted, damn the consequences. He wanted Senshomi and he would take her. He wanted So'unga and he would take it. He was stronger, faster and more cunning then those who could stop him. That laid out clearly before him, he understood in that moment what he was to become.
When stripped of his pretenses it boiled down to this: murdering an old woman in her bedroom for her sword and her daughter.
In that moment, with one action, the Inutaisho could have saved his dignity and spared her life. In that moment, he could remain an honorable soldier, instead of a thief. All it took was him to retreat, to turn back.
But he hadn't. With one curt nod, he had murdered his Queen and threw her Kingdom to the dogs.
Senshomi had swung about when the door to her rooms burst open. She was adorned in fine robes, unarmed as she usually went when in the palace. Why should she be otherwise? She was in her home, and however much a cage she might view it: the Inutaisho would have never lifted a finger against her. She turned, quickly, her silver hair dance over her frightened face. There was a only second for her to act, and when she did it was to call out to him.
"Husband …"
Her body stiffened suddenly, pale beautiful face twisting in pain. Her arms were reaching towards Inutaisho as if she had meant to run to him for protection; the light blue silk of her kimono darkening from the blood blossoming out from her stomach.
The Inutaisho caught her as she fell.
He rolled her gently over, brushing the last strains of hair from her narrow face with the tips of his fingers. Her wild eyes were searching the sky franticly. He realized then they were clouded and dark. Senshomi suddenly looked very small there as she trembled in his arms. Her fingers found his somewhere along the line, and grasp them tightly.
"Husband…" She called, choking on the words. For a moment, he wondered if she had been calling to Masami. "Husband…forgive me."
The Inutaisho frowned, debating on replying. Senshomi winced then, her body folding up a little, before she stifled a scream. The wound in her stomach appeared to be infected, as if poison had touched it. "Husband?"
"I'm here."
"Forgive me."
"For what, wife?"
"He didn't bring my revenge." She whispered hoarsely, frightened again of the world outside the darkness her new blindness had given her. Despite the handicap, she inclined her head towards the direction of her assailant. Inutaisho refused to follow to gaze. He could not see his son just yet. "He will not bring your healing."
He knew who she was talking about.
His son, Sesshoumaru, the one destined to be the Messiah of the Western Lands. He had always believed that. Sesshoumaru, the great healer, he had said. The one who would be common man and noble blood combined. Ruler and subject and thus, be everything the Western Lands needed.
Someone who could make all of his mistakes right again. Someone strong enough to wield So'unga, the Hell's blade and still bring peace.
So'unga.
The reason for Sesshoumaru's birth.
And then suddenly, Inutaisho understood.
The sword at his side rattled in its scabbard, as it had the night of Joruri's death, and so many times afterwards; calling to him to pull the blade and unleash its evil on the world. It was the hell blade after all, a sword so terrible that only the members of Senshomi's family wielded it with impunity. All others would succumb to its blood lust in the end.
It was a sword that used any means at its disposal to ensure its goal.
The Inutaisho had believed that Sesshoumaru would fix whatever his parents had done wrong. But he was wrong.
Sesshoumaru would fail.
Sesshoumaru was the product of betrayal, murder, war and death. He was the accumulation of all the lust, and deceit from Joruri to Inutaisho. Inutaisho should have known better. No peace could come from those crimes, despite how much he might have willed it.
In the end, all those fell deeds would lead to more. The blade So'unga was hungry for it.
And the child prince called the Hunger afforded the blade the prefect opportunity.
"He will not bring your peace. He has no heart. He has no…" Senshomi continued to mumble, her cold fingers trembling in the Inutaisho's. She convulsed once more. "Forgive me…"
Then, she was gone.
Inutaisho became aware of a dark, low measured laughter. It was forced, but still present.
"Finally, Chichi-ue. She pays me a compliment."
Inutaisho led Senshomi's body fall gently to the ground as he stood. So'unga hissed again, rattling and crying out to be taken. But it was not the Dog General it sang to, but Sesshoumaru. Inutaisho saw his son for the first time then, stripped of his own wishes and love. What he saw shook the Dog General.
The Hunger was watching the blade lustfully. He was holding up one hand, a sickly green mist rising from the claws. Scorpion poison. It seemed somehow fitting, Inutaisho thought sadly, that something dark and cruel finally adorned Sesshoumaru's beautiful features. It was as if the flesh had finally reflected the true evil within.
"Sesshoumaru."
Sesshoumaru's eyes were still watching the blade, flinching only when the Inutaisho gripped the hilt. Then he smiled. "Do you mean to draw arms against your son, Dog General?"
"Do I need to?"
"It would be unwise to do otherwise." Sesshoumaru hissed, crossing towards him and slashing at Inutaisho's hand. The General recoiled as the poison stung in his blood. It had bought Sesshoumaru the moment he needed to pull So'unga.
For a moment Inutaisho gasped for air, as So'unga's poisonous aura ate away at the oxygen. He thought he heard the cold sword laugh. Then Sesshoumaru's words again.
His voice was dull, awe-filled and masterfully. "A blade truly unworthy of such sullied hands as yours, Chichi-ue." Sesshoumaru purred; he tilted the sword to let the moonlight dance. "But I one I shall give full attention and care too."
Inutaisho reacted then, full muscle memory and will overpowering thought and emotion. He swung about, kicking Sesshoumaru's wrist and throwing his son balance. Then he made his mind shut down. He couldn't afford to consider Sesshoumaru his son.
He would lose if he did.
Sesshoumaru stumbled backwards, glaring. "Fighting with your feet. How common." He cursed.
"Yet effective." Inutaisho countered. He threw his weight into another powerful roundhouse that sent Sesshoumaru tumbling backwards. Sesshoumaru tried to cut him, but fueled more by rage then though, So'unga missed the mark. It passed Inutaisho's shoulder, slicing the hair. He shivered a little.
Sesshoumaru cursed again, his beautiful face twisting in anger. He struck out again, grazing Inutaisho's breastplate as the Dog General stumbled backwards. He brought So'unga towards his body then again, backing to steady his stance. The sword was feeding on Sesshoumaru's hate, adding its skill to the boy's. It would not be long till one of Sesshoumaru's swings met its mark.
"Sesshoumaru," Inutaisho called. "…Sesshoumaru, my son."
"Son?" Sesshoumaru counter viciously, emotion breaking his cool exterior. Inutaisho thought he heard hate in his son's voice, mixed with blind rage and uncertainty. His son was afraid. "I was never your son! I was a puppet, an object, an opportunity! My whole life is a lie. My whole existence nothing more then a power play! You both wanted me to fulfill what you couldn't! My whole life I spent trying to fill each of your desires, thinking that is what a son should do only discover you were molding me for nothing more then to ease your petty worries!"
Pain broke through now, making Sesshoumaru hesitate and misstep. The Inutaisho regained his balance and shifted. He looked up, meeting his son's gold eyes and for a moment: he saw nothing of Joruri, Senshomi or himself in the boy. He saw Sesshoumaru for what he was. Hunger, yes. A collection of sins molded and shaped into an image of power and conscience. A soul desperately trying to be born from the nothingness it was.
"But what you failed to realize, Chichi-ue." Sesshoumaru continued, motioning to the prone figure of his mother. "What she has failed to realize, in your all your careful training, and posturing and planning you've created nothing. I am perfection, but I have no reason to be." He shivered then, standing there with So'unga feeding his hate. "I have no soul…no heart."
The Inutaisho shut his eyes and spoke. "You're right."
Whatever Sesshoumaru had expected, that wasn't it for the boy lowered the sword. A mistake. Inutaisho fell to his feet, kicking the legs out from under his son. As the boy fell backwards, he ripped So'unga from his hand and swung- leveling the blade to Sesshoumaru's pale throat.
In the moment he should have severed the neck; the Inutaisho stopped himself. He could not kill his son. Sesshoumaru was staring up at him, waiting. Pleading with him to give him something that was truly his. Despite it all, despite the terrible truth behind it all, Inutaisho was still his father and therefore defined by his actions. Sesshoumaru needed him, if only to understand who he was.
"My son," Inutaisho said softly. "You're right. We spent so much time wishing things for you, creating you that we failed to give you what you something else. We gave nothing to love, nothing to protect that was your own. All you are is our pain, our secrets, our sins. I've done a terrible injustice to you, my beautiful baby boy, and for that I could never hope to gain forgiveness. However much I wish it."
He stared at the blade in his hand. So much he could have spared had he resisted So'unga. But he hadn't. "And I know you will spend the rest of your life searching for what I could not give you. You will belong to nothing, love nothing, protect nothing. You will only be that hunger we both gave you to fulfill some goal you cannot. And I am sorry."
"Chichi-ue…"
"I love you, Sesshoumaru." The Inutaisho told him, for the first and last time. He pressed the sword against Sesshoumaru's neck rougher without causing blood. "But I will not sacrifice all else that I love and protect to your hunger."
That said Inutaisho sheathed So'unga and walked out the door.
It would be the last time he saw Sesshoumaru as the boy he called son. From then on, he saw Sesshoumaru as all else did.
Sesshoumaru was the destruction of life, the incarnation of the void. He was not death, for death had passions, and feelings, and soul. Sesshoumaru had none of this. He was empty. Incomplete.
He was the Hunger.