LXVIII

Caetera Desunt

There is snow on the mountain. The Wolf waits for his mate. She is not yet his, but that is how he thinks of her. It is how he has thought of her from the first moment she failed to turn from him in fear, and when he is in the shape of the Wolf that embraces his whole being, he thinks it more strongly still. Not yet – not yet – but soon. Mate. The one who waits, that is who he is now…but not forever.

He waits in the light of the moon for her to come to him, and she comes – she comes – dressed in dark fur and gold gleaming, brighter blue her eyes in the moonlight than under a sun-blinded sky, and now – and now – yes, she comes to him, laughing, and for an instant speech is stolen from him, taken by purity, one thing that is wholeness.

The want of the Wolf.

He howls, clear, deafening sound, then turns down to her, breathless woman, red cheeks, bright eyes, hair whipped black and shining from under her hood and her smile – her smile – there is another howl in him just for her smile, but he saves it for the run.

"On, Kagome. On my back."

The words growl out of him, the voice of the Wolf awakened, and when he crouches she climbs the joint of his foreleg, tugs herself up along the ruff of fur at his neck and back into the hollow between his shoulders.

The weight of her is nothing, but it is right, right, and he feels her rub her cheek against his fur, her hands digging softly down through the softness of it. "Is that…is that okay, Kouga? I don't want to hurt you –"

He laughs at her, wolf-laughter, throbbing, growling, shakes his shoulders, his head. "You cannot hurt me, Kagome. Not this way." The pack is near them, close to them, crowding around his legs, into the open spaces of the den, on the side of the riverbank and the side of the mountain. "Are you ready, woman?"

"Yes –"

Kouga howls, howls, hears Kagome gasp behind him and then nothing but the sound of the pack, answering his call. They stream out of the valley with him at their head, and for the first time Kouga feels whole – just at the pressure of Kagome's tiny body on his back, just from the all but intangible tug of her hands on his fur, the way she laughs into the wind, so perfect.

O woman, how is it you are returned to me? How is it that you are twice returned?

He sees her in both places, two shadows, two heartbeats, two faces. He sees only one difference – a shift of color, a pair of brown eyes made startling blue.

What magic is this? What interference? In both of them, he senses the splintered power of the shikon no tama, the bleeding of its presence….enough to remind him that he is alive, still. That vengeance remains to him, unfulfilled – and desire, equally endless. His days are nights directed backward, memory enchanting beyond the power of this present world to deny. His nights complicate the future with dark power, black promises, worse pain.

But the woman. The woman, so soothing in her image, the memory of her fingers against what had remained of his skin…

The woman, become women. Now you live again, and you are two, and one of you is with him, and one of you is not. One of you…is with a wolf. The wolf's woman, they call you…the wolves, and the humans both.

But which of you is the truth, is real?

Which is the lie?

It occurs to him before long, watching them in the split reflection of the mirror, that perhaps both are real – even if he doesn't yet know how. After all, his own existence is a stranger truth than that.

There comes a knock at the door, soft, feminine sounds of hair and robe and kneeling. "Master –"

"So, you've come back. As I knew you would – as you must."

"Master, I was only –"

"Trying to escape, Kagura?" His shadow hisses with the laughter he will not allow his borrowed lips, and she shudders, awaiting pain – but not yet, not yet. The agony will lose its fresh, new edges if overused. Like the blade of a sword, it must be kept sharp. "You cannot escape. Could my hand choose to escape my wrist? No….no, you cannot escape."

"Do you have a task for me or not?" Such venom…but for now, she served her purpose, and that was enough.

"Yes. Go to the Ou mountains, and learn what you can of the tribe of Ookami living there. Their leader, their numbers, their strengths. Kill some of them if you wish, but you will find a human among them. Kill only the wolves!"

He does not turn to watch her bow. From the shadow, her sister approaches him, mirror in hand, the image unchanged. Two women, both sleeping, the same face, twitching with the same expressions in, perhaps, the same dreams.

"Kanna, go to the hanyou and the woman with him. Kill him if you can, but your purpose is to discover the name and nature of this woman. Where did she come from? What is her purpose, travelling with Inuyasha?"

"Yes, Master." The thin monotone of her words did not disappoint, and she turned away, left him alone with the silence of an empty mansion…and his shadow.

Wind in her face and the moon bright on the snow, and beneath her, Kouga shifting, growling, running, howling at the sky.

Wind in her face, and her knuckles red, and her cheeks probably too, and her eyes tearing from the wind, but the pack runs around her, around them, and the sound of them, the pent fury releasing itself in howls and whines and wolf-laughter...it's everything.

Wind in her face, and Kagome remembers suddenly that only old superstitious folks like her grandfather still believe there are wolves in Japan in her future, and maybe her heart breaks. But there's something to save her in that – this is the past, not the future, and Kouga is breathing beneath her, warm as life. She turns her eyes to the streaming pack, and then sucks in a breath – Miroku is with them.

She knows he has a lover, a wolf for his own – maybe more his own than she has Kouga. There is something strange about his Saya, who stays out of her way, out of her sight, who has never introduced herself, but Kagome is the stranger, interloper, outsider, and she does not insist.

There is something weirder, anyway. Something that keeps her looking, makes her jealous – something she doesn't understand. Because Miroku is human, as human as she is and maybe more so, belonging in this time as he does – but he is running on his own two feet, running with the pack, with his hands in Saya's fur, and he is keeping up with them.

It must be magic, some kind of power she doesn't share – and that, she thinks, isn't fair. Isn't fair! Isn't she the wolf's woman, isn't she? Shouldn't she be able to run with them, if Miroku can? Not fair, not fair! She wants to run with them, wants to feel the snow kicking up under her feet, the wind burning her face from her own effort – wants Kouga to chase her, nip at her cloak, her heels –

Why couldn't it be me that could run with them? Maybe Miroku can teach me. I wish I could – I wish I could run, just like Kouga – as fast as him, as far as him – I wish I –

There is a scattering of blue-white brilliance, a scattering of glow.

It comes not from the moon, but from Kagome - and Kouga.

A/N: Look, a chapter! A CHAPTER. Ah….but now I have to go write more scenes of a new book, so DON'T KILL ME. There will be more in the…relatively soon. This chapter's title, "Caetera Desunt", translates to "the rest is missing". Bwaha. As always,

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