A/N: We do not own either Inuyasha, Harry Potter or Sara Mclachlan's 'Possession', so get that through your heads – I'm not repeating it again. This story is primarily about soulmates and what we – 'we' being Jikkan and me, Arashi – think they are: a curse more than a blessing. Please review with your opinions, etc.
This story is dedicated to three people: GoddessMoon, who has been lovely in nagging, Natsudori Lina-ko, whose fic 'In the Wake of Spring' (translated from its Japanese title) is something I'm very proud of, and Chaos-niichan, who has helped me with Inuyasha-character characterisation. You three are the best online sibs one could wish for, so thanks to all three. Thanks to all three of you!
Now READ and REVIEW!
Across the Great Divide
A Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon fanstory by Arashinobara Jikkankakyoku
I – 'Into this Night I Wander'
As the Silver Millennium fell about her, Queen Selenity stood tall, all-seeing lavender eyes steady as she watched the destruction of her kingdom and her planet – of all she had worked for from the first time a maiden of lunar dust and divine power had become living flesh and sovereignty. She would not turn from destruction as her people were slaughtered; she would watch until her own death became imminent.
Until the heart-wrenching scream of her daughter echoed throughout bloodstained alabaster and crystal ruins, Selenity's expression had been stoic and implacable; a flicker of sympathy crossed it as all present felt the sudden surge of emptiness indicating an unfulfilled soulbond. The queen realised more than that – the star of gold had winked out, taking with it the heart of silver.
The Ginzuishou flared a little at this, and Selenity stroked it absently, sensing its distress. "She will see him again," she reminded it quietly. In light of this reassurance, the crystal remained unsatisfied and unhappy, though it did not voice its discontent with more than a musical chime that sounded more like a grumble than anything else. The queen smiled in spite of herself, though it was at that moment her daughter's despair crashed into her like a stifling wave. "Daughter," she whispered, and opened a link to the princess' mind.
She was immediately overwhelmed and the bile rose in her throat as she looked through Serenity's eyes and saw the Terran prince Endymion's slack face staring blankly back at her. Serenity was shaking her dead lover's body desperately, her mind a cacophony of denial and self-hatred.
Wanttodiewanttodiewanttodiewanttodie…
Feeling sick, Selenity made her presence known, and her daughter continued to keen her grief even as madness filtered through her mind.
Endymion! Goddess, Endymion… this has gone too far, I am not amused, wake up…
"He's not coming back, Serenity," Selenity whispered, and bit her lip so as not to flinch when the stricken princess rounded on her mother, insanity eddying and surging with her untrained power.
He promised, and he will! He will come back to me… and I'll speak softly now, because he never liked me to shout… Selenity broke the link then, her face haggard. Somewhere, Serenity was crooning over Endymion's bloodied form, brushing the hair from his face. The queen's expression became more closed than ever. Her daughter was gone from her now.
Selenity resumed her vigil of the battle – she did not even flinch when the princess howled again and blinding light exploded outwards, taking with it the entire west wing of the palace. The faint echo of a deep, throbbing pain touched the serene queen's breast before the silver wavered and faded gracefully.
It was time.
The Ginzuishou made a last, feeble protest to which Selenity paid no attention as, for a single, tentative moment, she allowed herself to feel, and to mourn her lost people. A single, crystalline tear splashed down an ivory cheek; another followed it, and she blinked so that no more would escape.
Ever-loyal, ever-supportive, her two advisors stood silently beside her. For now, there was no formality; each had a hand on their monarch's shoulder, the free one clasped in each other's. Luna and Artemis were quiet – they knew there was no other alternative, but their eyes were bright.
Ignoring the silver crystal's protests, Queen Selenity straightened, lavender eyes flashing as she held aloft the royal sceptre to which the Ginzuishou was attached –
And all was a blaze of silver…
To be part of a soulbond means that one might never be whole, and – erroneous and romantic tale-weaving aside – It is such a vile and painful anomaly that even the most petty and playful of deities would pity the unfortunate 'chosen'. Though a lifebond is similar in that it would bind two individuals together, it is formed when they meet, and may be broken in death. A soulbond is different – not a meeting of souls, two-made-one, but a sundering.
When a soul is divided, the bond will seek to reunite both halves and to heal them, and will not cease until its purpose has been accomplished, through lives and lives and lives. If the sundered soul can reach seven deaths – seven successful lives in which the one soul's two bodies have met, loved, and fought for each other – and both halves still exist (for there are things in the worlds which can destroy a soul, the most fell beings imaginable) what is broken is at last healed, and the once-splintered soul remains for a time in the Spirit Realm to recover from its pain.
When the healing is done – a long and tiring process, even as souls count things, they who are unaware of Time – the soul is reborn in its eighth incarnation as a whole individual, free to live without the ever-insistent, ever-wearing pull of the soulbond.
However, Serenity and Endymion were destined to know no reprieve from even this small mercy – when Queen Selenity returned to the moon and became again the dust that she had been born from, the Maboroshi no Ginzuishou was without wielder or host. Grimly, it attached itself to the soulshard that was its daughter, and anchored itself firmly so that it could not be separated without destruction to Serenity herself.
Endymion's heritage from his mother, a crystal much younger than the Ginzuishou but its equal in everything but age, was called the Densetsu no Kinzuishou. It wound tightly about the prince's soulshard and, like the Ginzuishou, made it so that all the jagged edges were smoothed; should the two fragments be brought together again for the Final Healing, they would not be able to join – never again would they be a whole.
Perhaps knowing and fearing this, the two sparks of gold and silver continued to cling grimly to one another. The bonding of each soulshard and its respective crystal had disrupted the fragments' journey to the future, and both were lost. It was not just time and space that separated the two from their destination, but entire universes. Eventually, they too were wrenched apart and drifted…
Until Selene of the Moon guided her great-daughter to a world where magic was thick in the air, and Gaia of the Earth led her son to a time of demons and warring. Fate and Destiny permitted them little else, but both granted their children a token – one that would guide the lost duo back to their Origin, or reunite them with one another.
So begins the tale.
The woman hesitated for a long moment, dark mahogany hair sliding to cover her face as she whispered loving words to the sleeping baby she cradled in her arms before laying it carefully on the ground so that the boy would not wake.
With a swift, smooth motion, she unsheathed the sword slung over her back and thrust the naked blade on the ground so that it stood a silent sentinel over the bundle it guarded. With infinite tenderness, the woman brushed her lips over her son's forehead; a perfectly round circle quartered by a cross blazed gold on his brow, and he whimpered a little in his sleep before calming at his mother's touch.
Choking back a sob, Gaia turned at the sound of girlish laughter and disappeared, though not before reaching into flowing green robes and tucking into the blankets something that flashed gold in the sunlight.
A slender girl with eyes of a burgundy-brown hue petted a horned head as it nudged itself insistently under her arm. She sang the occasional snatch of song, skipping gaily as she led her dragon mount through the wide meadow. Over her shoulder was slung a satchel of freshly-picked herbs; in her apron pocket were bundles of fragrant lavender and strong-scented sage bound by fishing twine, and she tucked the occasional wildflower into wild, dark-brown tresses.
Keen eyes glimpsed flashing silver and Rin stopped humming, back straightening purposefully as she tugged the two-headed dragon after her.
Seeing that the gleam was the shine of sun on a naked blade, the brunette exhaled irritably. "What idiot would waste a perfectly good sword by leaving it…" she caught sight of the bundle and blinked before sinking slowly to her knees and brushing the blankets aside to reveal a sleeping face, slightly reddened by the heat of both the blankets and the afternoon sun. "…here?" Rin finished weakly, for once at a loss for words.
Quickly recovering and plucking the babe from its confining protection, she checked its gender and with expert fingers probed various reflex points that twitched as expected. Heaving a sigh of relief as she realised the baby was altogether unharmed, Rin sighed, a fierce feeling rising in her breast as she realised how he must have been abandoned.
'If they were still around, I'd make Ah Un eat them…' The young healer thought angrily before she sighed and tickled the baby – only newborn, she realised with dismayed fury – who had woken sometime during her checking him for any anomalies or deformations that might have caused his parents to leave him. She could sense no malevolent spirit within him, nor the wild, acrid taste indicating he possessed demon blood.
"Was this your father's sword?" she asked him quietly, tearing off part of her cloak to wrap about her hand so that any ill-effects of touching the weapon, lest it be cursed, would be at least a little negated. Years around her temperamental guardian, Sesshoumaru, had taught her caution in that area.
Rin let out a yelp as she felt the hilt burning beneath her protected hands. Gasping, she almost dropped the baby in her attempt to yank the strip of thick cloth from her hand. Watching as the fabric dissolved, product of some kind of magical residue on its surface, Rin shuddered and glared accusingly at the blade, which appeared to be mocking her with its brightness. 'I guess that solves the question of whether or not it's cursed,' she thought sourly, turning her back resolutely to the sword.
She paused a moment, undecided. Sesshoumaru hated humans, never mind that his foster-daughter was one. Would he even accept…?
Rin's thoughts were momentarily sidetracked as she saw something glitter from the blankets she had just picked up, falling to the ground. She debated whether or not to bother inspecting them, and likely get melted out of existence for her troubles. Eventually, the brunette's innate curiosity got the better of her. Reasoning that they couldn't be that bad if they had been tucked in with the baby, she picked the smaller item up and gasped with wonder.
It was a lovely pendant, fashioned from silver and gold so pure she could dent it with her fingernails. Rin hastily dropped it into her hand to observe, worried that she might damage it permanently. As she watched in disbelief, however, the dents and scratches smoothed over and… healed…
'What is this magic?' Rin mused wonderingly as she tucked the trinket into a secret pocket in her satchel before kneeling to retrieve the second object. It was a pair of thick, interlocked bands made from metal foreign to her. From the moment the young healer touched them, she was overwhelmed with the scent of magic and withdrew her hand hastily, pulling the sleeve of her light robe over her hand so that her senses didn't sting as much. 'Sesshoumaru-sama will know what to do,' she thought confidently, slipping it into her bag next to the pendant.
Remounting Ah Un was a little difficult, considering she had to do it one-handed at best, but she managed. All the while, the baby watched the world about him with cloudy baby-blue eyes. Meeting them, Rin resisted the urge to shudder. That gaze was anything but clouded… but she continued to sing softly to him, stroking the first wisps of coal-black hair until he drifted off to sleep.
Sesshoumaru stared. As always, Rin speculated nervously of what her guardian might be thinking; his impassive gaze never wavered. "Rin," he said finally. "What is that?" As usual, his voice was level, and contained neither surprise nor contempt.
"'That' is a baby, Sesshoumaru-sama," Rin replied, hearing and disliking the faint tremor in her voice. "I found him in the fields," she continued, her confidence returning as she met the white-haired immortal's amber-gold stare squarely.
"And you thought to bring him here? To my castle?" the youkai Lord asked, and she could hear the frigidity in his tone.
"He's just a baby, Sesshoumaru-sama," Rin said by way of answer, knowing it would be futile to plead, but unable to halt the words pouring forth. "He looked like he was abandoned…" forcing herself to stop, the eighteen-year-old tilted her chin up, not quite defiant, but not submissive, either. "At the very least," she tried, "we could give him to Kagome-sama and Inuyasha-san."
Sesshoumaru's eyebrow twitched, as it always did, with the mention of his younger brother. Rin stared him in the eye, and Sesshoumaru stared back. With no other change in expression, he beckoned her closer, and the girl hesitated visibly before obeying. The baby was awake now, and again Rin balked at the clear awareness that young, cloudy-blue eyes expressed.
Golden eyes examined the bundle, though Sesshoumaru made no move to touch it, and suddenly his eyes widened the faintest fraction. Rin caught it immediately and held back her own gasp. Seldom did Sesshoumaru express the slightest expression – something must have startled him greatly to demand such a reaction from the stoic demon.
"His name is Chiba Mamoru," Sesshoumaru finally said, and there was a clear dismissal in his words. "Do with him what you will."
Rin refrained from hugging him – she knew the sentiment would not be very well-received. Instead, she bowed slightly, wordless thanks in her eyes before she left his presence.
Indignant spluttering from the youkai Lord's left was heard as the brunette disappeared from sight. "Sesshoumaru-sama!" Jaken, Sesshoumaru's self-styled retainer, continued to bluster. "It's a human! You hate humans! Humans shouldn't –"
"You overstep your boundaries, Jaken," Sesshoumaru did not turn to look at the imp demon, instead leaving the room in a direction opposite to the one his charge had taken. "And I have my reasons to allow the brat to stay, none of which I need to explain to you."
Jaken fell silent at that, and Sesshoumaru heard him scurry away hastily. The inu-youkai inhaled the night air contentedly, and bending his knees lightly, leapt onto the highest roof, sandaled feet landing soundless on bamboo slates. Sesshoumaru tilted his head back as he stared at the twilit horizon and watched the moonrise.
'That child…' he thought grimly, his mind slipping into the half-haze of meditation.'The boy is a bottomless reservoir of potential. Such power – so pure and clean… and old. He has the smell of the Earth in him, but also the scent of the Moon.'
The crescent moon insignia on his brow was dark rather than its original silver – it had been so ever since that night when billions had screamed their deaths and the heart of many a warrior had perished against an enemy of lies and dishonour.
Sesshoumaru blinked. Seeing that the gibbous moon was bright in the sky, he stood gracefully. Chiba Mamoru would stay. Rin would teach him discipline and respect and honour – all three were deeply instilled into the young woman, and she would pass them on faithfully. Sesshoumaru himself would teach Mamoru the sword, provided he did not become like most humans were: complacent and lazy. If it happened so… then it would happen.
Only time would tell.
Mamoru had been a very quiet baby. From the beginning he had watched the world with eerie awareness, and Rin, though a little intimidated by her adoptive son's gaze, grew accustomed to it in time. Sometimes, she noticed, he would sit with one head tilted ever-so-slightly to the side, as if listening. His first word was when he was eight months of age, and spoken only once. He had never attempted to speak until then, much to Rin's confusion, but when he did, the word was surprisingly coherent.
"Muun," he said, pointing at the full moon hanging silver in the sky. "Muun," he repeated, and continued to stare.
Rin had smiled and joked. "At this rate you'll turn to be just like Sesshoumaru-sama," she scooped the eight-month-old up into her arms. "Quiet, strong, and staring at the moon. Maybe I should keep him away from you," she teased.
His second word followed quickly, and it happened when she brought home several cuttings of flowers from the fields. "Bara," Mamoru smiled at the rose she handed to him, and with what Rin swore was a spark of humour in his eyes, he looked her squarely in the eye and said, "Mama."
When he was twenty months of age he was speaking in broken sentences, and those about him – Rin especially – could tell that he was frustrated by his inability to communicate fluently like the giants surrounding him could. One day, however, Rin was hanging up the laundry when Mamoru kicked up a ruckus and let out what appeared to be a shriek of pain.
She was alarmed, of course – Mamoru never cried, so there must be something wrong.
Thundering into the gardens where he had been playing, Rin blinked as she saw him laugh at her.
"The muun," he enunciated carefully, "is here."
The dark-bodied centaur watched in quiet awe as the moonlight intensified so that it was blindingly bright; when he could see again, there was a black-eyed woman all in shifting silvers and whites standing there. A quick glance towards the heavens confirmed Bane's guess – the moon had ceased to shine in the sky, but its Goddess was smiling gently at him.
"Centaur sky gazer," she acknowledged quietly, "noble son of Chiron, Selene entrusts her daughter's daughter to thy judgement and care. She may learn from thy wisdom, and train under thy lore, or perhaps thou wilt return her unto the bosom of Man to grow."
Bane took several steps forward, unshod hooves making no noise on the clearing's soft grass. Coming to a stop several feet away from the glowing woman, he bowed deeply. "The Old Ones have seldom asked boons of us though we centaurs remain forever in their debt." He straightened, though his stance remained respectful. "Should even the Council and herd cast me out; I will raise the moon-child and teach her until the stars themselves tell me otherwise."
Selene nodded in approval. "Well spoken, Bane of the Swift Shadows – may thy life be long and thy perception farseeing." Bane reached for the tiny bundle Selene held out to him, and resisted the urge to gasp as a sleepy, crystal-blue gaze met his dark one. Selene's pale fingers lingered over the crescent moon insignia on the sleeping newborn's head, which flared briefly at her touch. "Her name shall be Tsukino Usagi, and when she comes of centaur age, thou wilt return to her these two tokens of her past life, and grant unto her the advice that 'the past unlocks the future'."
A small package of moonlight tied with spidersilk was placed gently atop the sleeping baby, and as slender fingers brushed back a lock of golden hair, Selene's tall form glowed blindingly; silver rushed upwards, and there was moonlight again.
Bane took a long, hard look at Usagi. Firenze, excitable and young though he was, would help him, as would Ronan, who shared the same grandsire as the new chieftain, Magorian. With their support, the Council would be persuaded to allow him to keep the new life entrusted into his care. Bane himself detested men with a hard-headed determination, and if he had not served the Gods as he did, he would not have declared to teach the child personally, instead passing Tsukino Usagi into the care of one of the more soft-hearted mares and be done with it.
As if sensing his thoughts, little Usagi opened her eyes again and yawned widely at him. Bane realised he was smiling and belatedly reasserted the scowl on his face, muttering darkly under his breath as he skirted an acromantula trail.
But he tucked the blankets a little more snugly about the newborn and held her closer to him all the same.
A/N: I guess I decided that there should be a little more in way of length and edited accordingly.