Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or Naruto. The only thing I own is the plot.

Betas: Michelle T., AstaraelDarkrahBlack

Chapter 12: The Quiet After - The Quiet Before (Part 2)


The Kazekage came early in the morning, flanked by guards at the door as he greeted her with a good morning over Oren's shoulder in a soft, blank voice. Without another word, he left his followers behind and stepped into Kagome's abode. Drifting vortices of sand dust damp with the dew of desert night trailed his steps and fell in a fine drizzle over the carpeted floor by the front entrance. Quietly and with a grace that had never failed to captivate her attention, he sat himself across from her on the couch and said.

"How have you been these last ten days?"

Someone had run to get him a cup of tea and he accepted it with gracious thanks, face blank and perfectly calm as he watched her expectantly. Thoughts zipped through Kagome's head at the speed of light. The memory of the last time they had spoken was fresh in her mind and beneath it was all the contradictory thoughts on the man who now sat before her. Her guardian, her teacher, and at times, the one person who confused and bothered her more than anyone else in this land had ever done. Ten days of implicit house arrest had given her a lot of time to think about things… and for her irritation to simmer slowly into the frustration that gnawed at her the moment she laid eyes on the Kazekage of the village. In the aftermath of her showdown with the tanuki and then the revelations of the meeting with the Go-Ikenban, he probably had had good reasons to have her to stay away and out of the public eye—where her mere appearance might trigger something neither of them wanted. But the manner in which he chose to tell her to stay put inside the temple… that was problematic.

"You put me in jail," she said finally in response to his question. Ten days with no distractions under Temari's tutelage had seen her speech in the local language crawl past the awkward stuttering stage she had started out with.

Her statement prompted the Kazekage into rising an eyebrow.

"If you think this constitutes a jail," he replied, making a gesture that seemed to envelope everything around them. The spacious quarter, the spartan but of undeniably fine quality furniture and even the luxurious scarlet-dyed rug under their feet that kept the cold stone floor at bay. "I hesitate to think what you would call our real prison."

"So it's a pretty cage. So what?" Kagome bit back. "I didn't ask for any of this." She did not raise her voice but her irritation was clear to anyone who cared to listen. At Kagome's back, her maiden stiffened at the unexpected hard tone in her voice.

Rasa, on the other hand, did not answer her immediately—merely regarding her calmly as he sipped his tea in the quiet of her room. Mist rose from the mouth of his steaming tea cup in thin, white strands of vapor. Early morning in the desert was almost as cold as night; the sun had yet to fully rise over the sand plains and bring with it the blazing heat that molded life among the dunes. The light that came streaming through the windows was weak and pale and blue tinged, painting the room with shimmering pillars speckled with rust-colored dust motes.

Putting the half empty cup down, he addressed her curtly voiced complaint the way a teacher might explain why some things must be to a recalcitrant pupil. "I don't know how the people of your previous homeland dealt with things, but if they call keeping children who do not know better away from knives jailing, then yes, I put you in a jail."

Kagome sensed more than saw her maidens, with the exception of Oren who stood faithfully in a corner, surreptitiously creep out through the back door and away from a brewing argument that they wanted no part of.

"A young girl who we all thought to be perfectly normal aside from her magical green thumb walked into the village square in the midst of a crisis and proceeded to lay waste to the greatest demon this nation has ever known in three shots," he pressed on. "And then she told us that she came from a completely different world where untold hordes of demons—the likes of which we could only dream of—fester unchecked. Do you realize how you sounded?"

He didn't wait for her answer.

"You may only be trying to help, priestess, but you must realize your mere existence is enough to send into the pits of terror. A third of the council want nothing more than to put you in an actual jail cell and throw away the key… regardless of all the good you have done this village and its people," he paused once, letting what he had just said sink in. "Normally I would deride that third as irrational fear-mongers, but… according to our records as far back as they go the Shukaku is unkillable. What you call demons are immortal forces of nature in this world. To go against them is like going against a sandstorm or an erupting volcano. An act of futility. There are fewer than ten of them in existence in this world, but they don't die no matter what you do…"

Rasa's voice grew cold and heavy. His eyes momentarily glazed over as if he was reliving memories of his own, failures of his own.

"... and sooner or later they will come back even more angry than before. You can't win… ever. You just have to learn to live with them, to live while accepting that they will take from you, that they will rob you of things you hold dear... again and again. Eventually, you have to learn to go on living while expecting them... fearing them... and hating them."

There was maybe a minute or so when the Kazekage grew quiet, seemingly lost in thought before he turned his attention back to Kagome.

"There are people… savages in remote corners of this world… who worship them as gods of destruction. What you have done… what you nearly did ten days ago in the village square. No-one in our recorded history has ever done that before. No-one human, that is…"

His eyes bore into her. The thorns of wariness and resentment flit about in the depth of his gaze, beneath the unwavering determination and undisguised curiosity.

"Do you understand, priestess? You nearly killed a god… in broad daylight. The last thing you want to do is to prance around in public while the upper echelons of this village are still trying to wrap their minds around a new previously impossible possibility. A god killer, going about their village as she pleases. No restraints. No guarantees. Nothing to stop her. She answers to no law except her own. She does not even yet comprehend our laws. Do you understand, priestess, why you must stay put in this temple while I deal with pigeon-hearted men who happen to hold the reins in this village?"

Kagome grew quiet at Rasa's revelation. To be honest, she had expected that. She had dealt with her fair share of ignorant villagers made vicious by fear in the past. But… she had not considered how much worse the tanuki incident could come off in a world with no priestesses and few demons. Still, if the Kazekage thought he could make her back down with that kind of patronizing speech, then he was in for a surprise. Despite the irritation mounting in the pit of her belly, her face was calm, mirroring his own, and she responded quietly, but firmly.

"I am not stupid, Kazekage-san. This is not the first time a people reacted with... fear… at what I can do. But... " she looked him in the eye, her chin up, her back straight, rigid, and defiant. "...you could have told me this when you sent that message. You didn't. You chose not to. You think of me as a child… unable… to make my own decisions," she paused, then stated simply but firmly. "That is a problem."

She saw a hint of surprise flit across his face, as well as vague approval, but it was gone in the blink of an eye.

"Is it?" he challenged. "I would think you have bigger problems than that, priestess. You will forgive me for prioritizing the welfare of you and the village's above all else, your delicate sensibilities included." He paused, eyeing the frown on her face before pressing on in a placating voice. "But I did not come here to bicker." He threaded his hands together in front of his chest. "I came bearing the Go-Ikenban's decision regarding your request for contact with the bearer of Shukaku, my son Gaara."

It was a diversion, but it was a highly effective one. Kagome leaned forward in anticipation, for the moment willing to let his refusal to answer her accusation slide.

"And?" she pushed.

"The Go-Ikenban is at an impasse," he said. "Torn between three factions that cannot bring themselves to compromise. One wants nothing to do with you except perhaps to put you in chains."

Immediately, she thought of the jumpy councilor of that night ten days ago. What was his name again? Ika… something. He had called her a witch, said she was speaking nonsense, and looked about a step away from doing something drastic. He wore fear about him like a second skin, yellow and wan and listless in the aftermath of crushing terror. Briefly she wondered if he had watched her go up against the Shukaku, seen her strike down the mad spirit with insulting ease, seen it flee from her and heard it cry out in terror. Was that the reason for his fear? Because she had done something thought to be impossible? Perhaps, but it did not truly matter now. He was not the only one to be tinged with that pale yellow in the Go-Ikenban chamber. But despite Rasa's claim, she knew without a doubt that the people of the Sand would not do away with her so easily, not even those councilors ruled by extreme trepidation at the thought of what she could do, not while the people benefited from her services to the public. For that, she felt nothing but pity for them.

"The second faction would rather leave you alone, but under watch…"

'You mean more than you already do?', she was tempted to say, but kept her quiet.

"... to see if you were... perhaps neglecting to mention other things we should know about… for the good of the village… and for your own welfare."

He was effecting a very convincing tone. Had Kagome not seen into the Kazekage's soul itself in their first meeting and realized the complicated mind behind that calm, blank facade, she would likely have bought it. But she had, and so could not help but feel a similarity between this second group and the man sitting before her himself. Her guardian, her teacher, her… not-quite-friend but more than just a close acquaintance.

"The third and last faction want to work with you. They have seen what you have done for this village. They have trust that you have nothing but good intentions, and they want to find out what else you can do."

She gave him a sharp look, then said.

"And these many… factions… of the Go-Ikenban… what have they decided?"

"They have entrusted me, the one who holds the last vote, to decide which course of actions we shall take. My choice will be their choice. Time is of the essence, and I doubt you like this waiting. We will put an end to this quandary today. That is the reason for which I am here."

He emptied the tea cup in one gulp, set it down, then got straight to the point.

"I want to know what your intentions are towards Gaara."

For a full minute, Kagome was speechless, a frown marring her face.

"That? That is your question? You want to know what I want?" she attempted to keep the annoyance from her voice, but likely failed. "Have I not made myself clear? I want to help Gaara. I want to help… you…"

Kagome was tempted to continue speaking; that this was despite the Kazekage's obstinacy and his council of unreasonably paranoid old men.

"That is an awfully vague answer, priestess. And wanting to help does not necessarily mean that you will actually help. Tell me. How exactly will you help? Will you… get rid of the Shukaku for good? Or attempt to separate the two perhaps?"

Something in his voice, in the rigid set of his shoulders told her that he did not view either option as a good outcome.

"Of course not," she said. "The tanuki… he wasn't any more at fault than Gaara was…"

"I beg your pardon. The tanuki has killed thousands of innocents and caused an untold amount of destruction to this nation," he made a sharp gesture with his hand as if to emphasize. "Whatever your personal view on what constitutes a demon, I suggest you keep in mind that Shukaku is historically the oldest and greatest enemy this nation has ever known. It has aggrieved our people since long before the founding of this village, even long before we developed any grudges or rivalries with competing nations."

His sudden and passionate rebuttal gave her pause. She considered explaining her view for a moment before letting it go. The tanuki wasn't at fault, not while the crude soul stitching drove it mad from pain, but that was not something that was so easily explained to one who did not see the merging of souls the way she did, so she opted to concentrate on the matter at hand.

"The bond," she said, choosing her words carefully. "The forced bond… it hurts the both of them. The tanuki goes mad with pain. Whenever it… struggles... " Yes, that was the word. Struggle. It fought against the binding constantly. "... it gets worse. It's like… a rubber band. When the band stretches, Gaara loses control and the tanuki gets out. But it doesn't last. They are always back together. A vicious cycle. They will destroy themselves."

"... And what will you do?" he paused as if reconsidering his question. "What do you see, priestess?"

"This bond is not natural. It's crude. They are tangled up into each other. If I try to separate them, it will likely kill Gaara."

Even at the possibility of his son's death, the father gave no outward reaction. He was quiet, still as a statue, not saying a word, and not moving an inch. His face was stone, and his steady gaze seemed to pin her in place.

"But… I can stop the pain," she pressed on, slower this time. She was on new territory. "I can stop the... stretching. I can mend the cracks. No more struggling. No more losing control. No more tanuki rampaging and killing people. With time, I can… maybe fix the bond. Make it better."

She could do more. She would do more. But she wasn't telling him that, at least not right away.

Kagome looked at him expectantly. She waited to hear either a question confirming whether she could actually fix the mangled tie between boy and spirit or outright consent. After all, the people of the Sand and their Kazekage had everything to gain by accepting. But Rasa gave her neither. He didn't ask whether she could actually do it, merely regarded her with dark eyes.

"And for that to happen, you need to be within close proximity with him, is that it?"

She nodded, then ventured on. "What's wrong?" The fact that he was doing something that was neither of her guesses meant he wasn't yet set on a decision. She could tell he had some plan in mind. She wasn't sure she liked that. Rasa was at times a tricky individual. He liked to put things to test, see how far they would stretch, when they would give. He had done that to her too a few times. He would deliberately hold off to see her reactions, or poke her with edged questions bound to get a raise out of her. He probably was going to do something like that very soon. He probably was going to do it now.

"Nothing," he replied, then put his cold, empty cup down on the table and stood up in one smooth motion. He held out a hand to her. "Come. I want to show you something."

They didn't go far. Indeed, they didn't even leave the premises of the temple. He simply led her through long stretches of corridors and closed gates to another part of the temple, this one even deeper into the temple than her quarters. The guards and Oren trailed behind them as they walked in silence, passing by beige robed monks who bowed respectfully to the Kazekage and shot her inquisitive looks. Then finally they stopped before a towering archway blocked by thick black bars.

He opened the gate with a palm pressed against a discreet mechanism in the wall next to the old brass-green kerosene lamp and beckoned at her. The moment Kagome stepped foot into the vast chamber inside, she was immediately overwhelmed.

"Who lived here?" she whispered, in awe at the aged presence that exude from the very wall and ground of this hallowed place. The chamber was fashioned from an immensely large natural flowstone cave. It was dark and empty but for a tiny, unmarked gravestone and a rock formation that bore the vague shape of a tea pot behind it. She could feel powerful seals inlaid in the walls, meant to hold whatever was inside from escaping. The seals were dormant, yet still held enough residual power for them to glow in her vision. Surprisingly, it wasn't their presence that made this dreary place extraordinary to her eyes.

Rasa shot her a sharp, considering look, and responded not with an answer but with a question of his own. "What do you see?"

She touched the wall, felt the breath of an ancient, ageless soul at her fingertips. No. Not a soul, the shade of one, an imprint left behind from times long past. There were memories seeped deep into the stone and they glimmered like the stars in the night skies. She ambled along the edge of the chamber, a spellbound child in the cathedral of gods. The Kazekage trailed behind her waiting for her to finish.

The monk was old, lonely, and burdened with a terrible purpose. The mark of those who had jailed him made a black ring at the entrance of the chamber. He was greatly feared for shouldering a duty no other wanted and few understood. In spite of it, his heart was filled with unshakable faith and boundless compassion. The strength of his spirit was such that decades after his passing, its echoes lingered. It felt as if someone had condensed the holy aura of Mt. Hakurei and filled this chamber with it. But whereas the White-heart Hakushin was corrupted in death, this one was pure until the very end. He had never once stopped believing in his fellow humans. He had never once allowed hatred and bitterness to overtake his heart, not even when the rest of his kind shunned him.

Suddenly she felt small and young, humbled by the great presence of one who had long departed but who had nevertheless made this place forever a sacred ground to anyone with a smidgen of spiritual power. It was a full five minutes later that Kagome finally managed to get the words out.

"Shukaku was here," she started first in familiar territory. "Imprisoned for decades, bitter and resigned''. And… the one who held it here, who kept it company… A monk. He has a marvelous spirit and a great heart. I would have… I would have liked to meet him were he alive… what was his name?"

"Bunpuku Chagama," The Kazekage offered readily.

"Bunpuku Chagama," she repeated. "What does it mean? Happiness… bubbling over like… a tea pot? What a strange name… but it fits." She paused for a second as she laid her eyes on the small, unkempt and unmarked gravestone. The final resting place of Bunpuku Chagama? This was to be his reward for a lifetime of duty and sacrifice? Oh, but he wouldn't be the first spiritually powerful individual to be cast out by his brethren for little reason other than human spite. She would know that well.

She stood in silence before his unmarked gravestone, and then said as if making a grave promise. "I will remember it."

"You would be the first one in a long time to do so," said the Kazekage "Most would rather forget that he existed at all." There was a distinct rustling sound. She turned around and he was standing with a seal scroll in hand. He unfurled it in the blink of an eye and it fluttered from his hand, its end draping the floor. In the next moment there was a burst of smoke accompanied by a small sound. A bow and full quiver materialized in Rasa's hands. Without saying a word, he threw the bow and arrow set at Kagome who caught them clumsily.

"What are these for?" she asked, frowning. She didn't like where this was going.

He said nothing for the first few seconds, merely strolled leisurely to take up position in front of the grille gate which had shut down when she wasn't looking at it. On the other side, grim-faced guards stood with their backs to her. Alarms went off at the sight in Kagome's head.

"What are you doing, Rasa-san?" she pressed, holding the bow and arrows close, her fists tight around the polished wood grip.

"Relax," he said finally, looking her in the eye as he did so. He stood facing her with his hands in the pockets of his pants. "Nothing is going to happen." Then he paused, seeming to chide himself in his head, before rescinding his earlier statement. "My mistake. Something will happen. But the nature of what exactly that is entirely up to you."

Well, that was no less ominous.

"I will be frank with you," he continued. "The Shukaku is more than just a demon to this world. It is a vital political component in keeping the peace between the five greatest nations. There are eight others like it, they are distributed to six countries in this world, five of which currently hold a peace via the virtue of might and mutual agreement. Shukaku is our nation's only tailed beast, captured by the use of our own blood and effort. Because we cannot kill a demon, other methods of handling and harnessing its potential are required. What you see in Bunpuku Chagama," he made a gesture at the unmarked gravestone. "... and in Gaara is the best way we have for dealing with a tailed beast," he gazed at her, eyes heavy with intention and a cold, calculating hope. "it is... the best way we… had."

Kagome stood stock still, for a moment not believing what she just heard. She had been thinking of pressing the question of how exactly did boy and spirit become so entangled and here he was telling her the secret on his own accord. But… did he just…

"There was but a brief period of time, a few short months after the death of Bunpuku Chagama, when Shukaku was imprisoned in that teapot behind you," he pointed with one hand. "But the power of a tailed beast is such that only a living container may imprison it for any significant amount of time. A living human container. A human sacrifice. A Jinchuuriki. Gaara…"

He was, thought Kagome in shock and horror, he really was saying it.

"... is the second Jinchuuriki of Shukaku."

He looked like he was about to continue on a lengthy monologue, as if he hadn't just admitted to a horrible crime against his own child. Kagome quickly cut in before he could segue casually into the next topic.

"You?" Her voice shook with barely restrained emotions. "It was you who did it?" People left memories in the earth that they walked upon, in the houses they inhabited, and the more emotionally charged an event the stronger an impression it left. One downside to Kagome's spiritual vision was that the memories left upon the world were not simple recollections that would fade with time as she experienced them. The world didn't just appear to her in her eyes, her ears, her nose, her tongue, and her skin. Hers was a much deeper and much more vibrant world than that of others. Water carried magic in it, carried the pulse of other worlds in it. Rocks and stones had life, had breath. Love and hate were living things. And spiritual traumas the likes of which plagued the demon-boy chimera left marks on Kagome herself. Her skin remembered the heat and pain of his struggles. Her ears heard his cries for help. It was difficult to remain detached, even more to not remember… which made this revelation all the more horrifying for Kagome. "You put a demon… into your own child? Your own son?"

Her voice echoed in the silent chamber, erupting with disbelief and anger. "I thought… maybe some sort of accidents or a soul sickness I didn't know about. I didn't want to assume things… but it was you. You did it on your own accord… to your own child? How… how could you?" She was clutching the bow so tightly her knuckles turned white around the polished wood grip.

The Kazekage fell silent at her outburst, face stony and gaze cold. Something dark and foreboding was rearing its head in his eyes. When he finally spoke, his voice could have frozen water.

"Not all of us have the luxury of being born with natural demon suppressing power, priestess," he said in a curt, clipped voice. The word priestess fell from his lips like an admonishment. "The other alternative is a freely rampaging demon. In under half an hour of freedom, it killed a hundred and three people including women and children, maimed over four hundreds and caused untold number of financial losses. Think, priestess, of what it is like to live in terror of the next time a demon you can do nothing about come around to your village, to your family. Think of what it is like to live like insects to be crushed underfoot for your whole life. Think of being completely helpless as you witness your loved ones slaughtered like animals before your eyes."

The cold fury in his gaze pinned her to the spot and silenced any protest she might have said.

"Think of living in the contempt of murderous gods. Think, priestess, of what it is like to live in this nation, and hold your tongue. For if you cannot, we shall have to end our conversation right here, right now."

A strained silence descended in the chamber. The air was thick with tension as Kagome struggled with conflicting emotions. One one side, shock and indignant anger. On the other, shame and reproach. The silence reigned for a whole of five full minutes before the Kazekage pressed on in a quiet voice filled with uncharacteristic weariness and grief.

"I was a few months into my office. Bunpuku was dead. Shukaku needed a new container. My country was ravaged by war, my people made weak with loss. Someone must uphold the duty of Jinchuuriki. I am the Kazekage. You may think me heartless, but if I would not give my child to this fate… then who should have?"

It was a question that she did not have an answer for, and whose implications weighted heavily in her mind.

"We had no way of knowing that the seal would not work on Gaara as it did for his predecessor. We thought a child container adapted to the demon at birth would have an easier time. We were wrong. The seal relied on the mental strength of the bearer to keep the demon in check. Bunpuku was a grown man when he volunteered for the mantle. Gaara was a child."

He paused for a heartbeat, then said. "Gaara is a failure. Gaara is the failure of a hot-headed and arrogant young man who thought he had figured out what made the world go round… Me…And you, a child not that much older than my own daughter, claims she can reverse my irreparable mistake."

Somewhere halfway of this statement, Rasa's unexpected show of vulnerability evaporated and in its place was left only a hard, uncompromising intent. They were past her protest and back to whatever it was he wanted to talk about.

"I would be… immensely grateful… should you accomplish what you claim to be able to do. However, all matters concerning the Jinchuuriki are steeped in politics. Are you aware of where you stand with the Go-Ikenban?"

No… and she didn't care to know. More suspicion probably, more fear, more greed for what else she could potentially do, or attempts to control her. She was young, not stupid. She knew only to well what the people in control would want out of her when they heard the scent of profits to be made or power to be gained. She simply didn't care for their squabbling. She would do what felt right to her. That had never changed.

"What does that have to do with… anything?" she responded, her chin jutting out to show her displeasure with this tiresome conversation.

"Says the greatest disrupter of the status quo I've ever known," the Kazekage's mouth twisted in a vague facsimile of a grim smile. "Before your run-in with Shukaku, Miko Kagome Higurashi was viewed as a cute little girl that brought green riches to almost everyone in this village. You worried no one but perhaps the vulture merchants that once preyed upon my people. However, the moment you declared your interest in the jinchuuriki, the political keystone of this village, you made yourself a creature of concern to every man and woman with ambitions in this village. The village tactical weapon in close proximity with an alien Miko with the power to snuff out said weapon in the blink of an eye is a volatile combination few in the Go-Ikenban are comfortable with. The turmoil you will create… by merely exiting the safe haven I have created for you in this temple and involving yourself with Gaara and Shukaku…. it is immeasurable. You may very well turn the political and cultural landscape of this village on its head…"

"I just want to help," she snapped back. "You are making this un... unnecessarily complicated!"

"That might be so. After all, why should you care for politics that have never concerned you before," he concurred with a minute nod of his head, then made a gesture with one hand at the bow and quiver in her grip. "I shall make it simple for you, little priestess. I wish to test your resolve. Nock your arrow, and draw your bow. If you manage to dislodge me from where I stand," he gestured down at his feet. "I will cast the final vote in favor of your request. If you cannot, then the matter is closed."

"How does that... even prove anything?" spluttered Kagome, frustrated and confused.

"It proves your commitment," he responded immediately. "I promised you greater freedom once you gained an efficiency with our language, didn't I? You certainly are not butchering it anymore, but to release you into the open society of Sunagakure, and at the side of Gaara…" he shook his head. "Upheavals are sure to follow your every step. As the leader of this village, don't you think I should be concerned about that kind of thing?"

When put like that, he did have a point. Kagome hadn't missed the looks the guards had been giving her for these past few months. Adoration and confusion, gratitude mixed with impotent resentment, reverence clad in fear, and more… and that was just the guards. Even Temari, who had never failed to greet her with a warm welcome, brought with her a smidgen of unvoiced wariness. But even so…

"If you are truly committed, then a stable jinchuuriki is well worth the price of whatever problems are created in the process," the Kazekage pressed on before Kagome could put her unease into words. "But if you are not… if this is just the whim of an adolescent girl who thinks nothing of the complex world she is barging into nor of the consequences of her actions…then I shall put a stop to it here." He gestured at the bow in her hands. "If you falter before me, you will falter before every fear monger who panics at the thought of what you can do to Gaara… of what you can do alongside Gaara. So draw your bow, little priestess, and prove to me that you will not falter."

Kagome opened her mouth, closed it. The sheer bellicose rationale he was touting rankled badly to her sensibilities…

"I don't…" she started.

"...Use your power for violence?" he finished. They exchanged a look loaded with mutually knowing frustration. This was not the first time their ideologies and approaches to life came into conflict. Whereas Kagome followed the gentle path of Shintoism, the Kazekage was the leader of a warrior people. There couldn't be a worse match for this discussion.

"A commendable principle, but one ill at ease with the tenuous peace of this world. If you wish to live among us, priestess, you must learn our way of life. In this world, might is the caliper of every facet of society," he paused then, and gave her a hard, impatient look. "Time is wasting. Draw, or you shall never see nor hear of Gaara again."

Yes, time was wasting. She could see that nothing she could say would convince this stubborn old warhawk otherwise, and it frustrated her to no end. Mere words would not move him, but she didn't want to play by the rules he was setting either. An idea flashed by Kagome's head. Without saying another word, she planted her feet wide and moved to nock a single arrow on her bow. She drew the bowstring taut and as she glared at the man before her, she silently reached out with her senses the way she did to Yuhi in the heart of the orphanage ten days ago.

She only needed him to go to sleep now. For all that he was closed off to her like few others were, his spirit was pliant and open to her influence just like that of anyone else. She just needed to nudge it a little, made it wink out into dormancy for a mere moment. No pain, nothing drastic, nothing permanent. It was the least violent way she knew to put an end to this standoff between guardian and ward, teacher and unwilling student. Or at least, that was what she intended to do.

There was no warning preceding the sudden blow to her solar plexus. He didn't even twitch, nor had the expression on his face changed. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, hands still and visible. So Kagome had no warning when pain bloomed white and red in her vision and the force of the blow sent her stumbling backward and falling onto her rear. She wheezed painfully, trying to breath as her eyes swam with tears. In her peripheral vision, she glimpsed the fleeting ghost of gold dust gleaming softly under pale, weak light.

He had pulled his punch. That was blunt force. Had he used the edged end, the pointy end, as she had witnessed a rare few times before, he would have drawn blood… and a lot more. This was a warning blow… and irrefutable proof that he was completely serious with this ridiculous test.

"So it's the kind of technique that requires focus and a line of sight?" His voice drifted into her ears where it set off painful pings inside her skull. "A useful trick but it won't work a second time or against an alert opponent. Your intent gaze gave you away long before you could actually do anything, and that set-up diversion… just sloppy."

Of course he would know of the incident with Yuhi. He likely received reports on every detail of her day to day life. Kagome felt her temper flare. Her hands were still closed tight around the grip of the bow. Without even turning to look, she leapt up on one knee, brought her bow and the arrow to bear, and shot. Her arrow, guided not by her naked eyes, but by the extra sense that painted her world in washes of colors and impossible depths, flew straight for the chakra aura that marked the Kazekage. A dry, dull thud resounded in the stone chamber. She looked up and saw him looking down at her with something like mild approval. There was a thin, bloody line on his cheek. The arrow was behind him, lodged deep in the wall.

It was a statement. It was his statement. These arrows were tipped with iron. Had he wanted to, that one she had just shot wouldn't have flown anywhere near him. Infuriating, overbearing, control freak of an old man! She felt something in her snap. She stood up, reached into the quiver and grabbed at the arrows still inside. She threw them violently at his feet where they made noisy clatters and kicked up dust.

"I am not a thing to be coddled and protected," she said…growled. She worked to keep her temper from showing. He was the type who would take advantage of her anger… of her… anything actually. "I am not something for you to put in an ivory tower and keep away from the world."

Her miko barrier went up, pink and shining in the dark chamber as it encircled her in a protective embrace. The remnants of Bunpuku Chagama's spirit that yet remained in the chamber hummed in answer to her presence as it recognized her kinship to it. The gold dust retreated from the light of her barrier, wary of provoking a fight with an alien entity.

"I am not a helpless little girl for you to lead around by the hand," She reached into her pocket and grabbed a handful of seeds that she had taken to always carrying around. Apples and pears and pomegranates. Fruit trees that were sure to bring smiles and laughter to the little children that followed her around when she was in town. At her touch, they sprouted, and grew, and bent their shape into that of a bundle of wooden arrows. Their blunted, ligneous tips would kill no one, but they would hurt a whole lot.

"I chose here. I chose you. I chose to stay. This is my choice," she knocked an arrow, aimed—He wanted to fight? Fine. They would fight. "So you better shut up and listen when I'm talking!"—and fired.


In hindsight, the fight was already over before it had even begun. Kagome held the boundless power of the completed Shikon no Tama within her, but was unwilling to call on even a minute fraction of its power and so stood as no more than a slightly above average Miko against the strongest of a warrior nation. Her sole battle potential lay in her barrier and her arrows.

Unfortunately, the Miko ki that fueled both was a poor opponent against this world's unique supernatural energy. Whereas Kagome's holy arrows would have been devastating against an opponent that was demonic or had a dark spirit, against the preternaturally strong but still entirely mortal Rasa, they were only slightly more effective than ordinary arrows.

As for her barrier... unlike the tanuki's dark aura, which was thick and solid much like the youki that was possessed by the demons of her world, the human equivalent in this world, this… chakra… that powered the Sand warrior's combat magic was as formless and immaterial as winter fog. It was a nasty surprise to find that trying to ward off chakra-powered attacks with her barrier was like trying to keep water from seeping through the gaps in her hands. What was her ultimate defense against even the strongest of demons was rendered a mere stopgap measure against the barrage of his attacks. After a brief initial tussle, Kagome ended up spending much of the fight on the defense as she fled from one menacing gold wave after another while desperately trying to come up with an effective way to push her opponent off his self-made pedestal.

They had gone at it for hours. One had stood perfectly still with even his hands unmoving whilst the other was run ragged from one end of the chamber to the other. She put up a good fight, but in the end, the sheer gulf in their combat experience—her relatively short two years of tangling with demons and evil sorcerers versus his lifetime of battles in many wars—was insurmountable. After a good three hours, the Kazekage still stood unmoved from the spot where he had planted himself while Kagome was reduced to a panting, aching heap on the floor. She was sweaty as well as black and blue all over. Her arms and legs were lacerated with a maze of shallow cuts. Around her and the Kazekage were strewn a mess of broken arrows. She had run out of seeds very early on and had had to improvise. The only thing that remained standing around her was the barrier, gleaming defiantly in the face of obvious defeat.

"Oren," called the Kazekage after a brief moment of silence. At his command, the thick bars blocking the entrance into the chamber lifted and the eldest of Kagome's maidens came in with a white and red box in hand. Only then did he finally move from his spot and approached her with Oren in tow. He stopped at the edge of her barrier and, though he could have passed through unharmed because of his humanity, chose not to.

"Let down your barrier," he commanded. He could have walked right through, but he wanted not only to beat her at this game, but also to have her concede defeat and admit to having learned her lesson. Of course, Kagome was having none of it. She pulled herself to a sitting position and glared darkly at him in response.

"You can stick out your tongue too, if you want to play at being a petulant little girl," he replied with one eyebrow raised in wry amusement. "Let. Down. Your barrier. I will not repeat again."

She remained stubbornly silent… until Oren timidly spoke up from her spot behind the Kazekage.

"Kagome-sama," her voice was soft, soothing, but marred by a worry that pulled at Kagome's conscience. "If we don't treat your wounds, they will become infected."

She liked Oren. The maiden's worry for her was genuine, and so was her dedication. She hated it when she had to needlessly worry the older woman. Oren might have only become her caretaker because of orders, but the older woman had come to care for her unconditionally. Slowly, reluctantly, she let the last of her Miko ki bleed from the barrier. It dissolved into thin air in the blink of an eye to leave in its wake a glum and grumpy miko. Oren dropped down by her side wordlessly, putting the medical supply box next to her and opening it to get to the balm and bandages inside. She eyed Kagome's gallery of injuries with muted distress as she picked up a clean pack of white gauze and an antiseptic bottle. Before she could start her work however, she was stopped by an outstretched hand.

"I'll do it," said the Kazekage as he settled himself on the other side and, in a surprising move, took over the task of patching up the beaten miko. Oren hesitated for a split second before nodding and relinquishing her supplies to her superior. "Of course, lord Kazekage," she said before backing off to a respectful distance.

Before Kagome's stunned gaze, he set to work. Using an antiseptic wipe made of a piece of gauze, he cleaned the cuts on her arms and legs, then rubbed them down with medicinal balm. For a pure warrior, he seemed to know what he was doing. There was no hesitation in his movements, his touch was light and mindful of her aching limbs, a stark contrast to the ruthless beatdown he just delivered but minutes ago.

"You may have plenty of spirit, but you are far short of the experience needed to protect yourself," he commented as he wrapped the gauze around a fresh cut on her shin. "And you just shouted so loudly that you were no child who needed to be protected. You gave me so many openings that a genin could have killed you a hundred times over." He tapped her leg as he tied up the bandages. "Learn so that you can do better next time."

Next time? There was to be a next time? Kagome eyed the Kazekage warily. She could tell he was up to something, or he wouldn't be doing… this. If he were trying to unbalance her, then he was doing a very good job at it.

"What are you… what are you up to?" she pressed, seeing no benefit to beating around the bush. He didn't answer immediately, nor even turn to acknowledge her. For a few minutes, he continued tending to the marks he himself had inflicted upon her, moving from her legs to her bloody arms. And then, out of nowhere.

"Your dead comrades… You were the one who killed them, weren't you?"

He said it so casually, as if he were merely commenting on the state of the weather, and only turned to glance at her from the corner of his eye at the tail end of his question. To Kagome though, his whimsical inquiry could have been the sound of thunder splitting the earth by her ears. She stared at him, eyes wide and mouth open. She was speechless for a full minute, her entire body shaking in shock and horror. The faces of her friends flashed by in her mind. Inuyasha, Sango, Miroku, Shippo, Kouga and his wolf tribe, Kaede, the villagers….

At once, the memories she had been repressing came to life around her, fresh as if it happened only yesterday. The hellish noise of the cries of the dying, the visions of bodies wracked in agony, the stench of burning flesh, the heat of the fire on her skin, the light of souls slipping from the mortal plane. A hundred. A thousand. Ten thousand. All lost in the fires.

As the world burned down, she danced and laughed and laughed and laughed, black hair swirling and flying in the wind. She was not human, not demon, not mortal, not spirit, not miko, not witch, not holy, not sacrilegious. She was born from nothing, and would one day vanish into nothing. Devour your mother. Subjugate your father. Born not from flesh but from limbo. Carve out a path of existence atop the blood and bones of others. Shine brighter and brighter. Become a nova. Wink out and disappear.

She felt herself become lighter and lighter, like air, like hot air borne on cold wind, floating higher and higher until she disintegrated into the aether. At last…

"You…" she got out weakly. The rest of the words escaped her in gasping whispers.

"So it's true. It was you who killed them." He turned to face her fully. He wore a knowing, contemplative look on his face. A dark wisdom. A killer recognizing his kin.

"I… I didn't…"

"... mean to do it?" he cut in before she could piece together a verbal defense. She started and jerked back as if she was about to turn tail and run, but her hand was clamped tight in the Kazekage's grip.

"Don't pull at the bandages," he said casually, then turned to nod at Oren. "Ice patches and salves." At once, the warrioress handed the requested items over.

" I will tell you a story," he said as he worked on the last of the cuts on her arm, leaving the ice patches and pot of salve in his lap. "In a land torn by war, a child is born with the power to put an end to the conflict. Perhaps her birth and the existence of her power is someone else's plan. Perhaps it is the plan of the gods. Perhaps her birth parents know, perhaps they don't. What is certain is that the child grows up unaware of what she holds within her. She goes to school, makes friends, and lives a normal life away from the frontlines. Until one day, her power awakens."

He tied the last knot, picked up the salve, and rubbed it on the enormous bruises on her cheek and shoulders.

"At first, it is exciting. She is special. Her world suddenly becomes much bigger. She goes places and meets people, makes lifelong friends, and maybe even falls in love. But then it quickly grows cumbersome. She is dealing in stakes that are far weightier than she is comfortable with. Forces bigger than she can imagine are out to get her. Now the war comes to her. Now she is embroiled in the thick of it. Now it is frightening as it never had been before."

Kagome trembled. His words were bullets that pierced her chest and lodged themselves deep in her heart.

"But there is no going back for her. Her power grows and the more it grows the more it attracts unwanted attention. The friends try to help, but her power is a never before seen force of nature and so they are helpless. The power is vital to putting an end to conflict, but she grows to hate it, fear it. Until one day, whether because she loses control of it, or she refuses to use it, her friends die."

He fastened the ice patches on her bruised shoulders. They were eye to eye. He kept on speaking. His voice was the asp's hypnotic gaze. She couldn't pull away.

"She is paralyzed with shock and grief, and then galvanized by guilt. Whatever reservation she had in regards to the power, she throws away, and in an uncontrolled burst, her power springs free. She kills whatever villain brought about the death of her friends, puts an end to conflict. Then she exiles herself, seals away the power, and swears never to use it again."

And then, suddenly and almost without warning, he was done, with both his story and patching up the injuries he himself had caused. They sat in a deafening silence, the one calm and still as stone and the other trembling with shock and horror.

"How… how…" Kagome forced herself to push out the question, but she felt as if all of her strength had left her. She felt empty, boneless. How did he…

"Everything," replied the Kazekage, not even needing to hear the full question to make a guess at what it would be. "Your disregard for your own life, your apathy to almost everything around you, even to yourself. Classic signs of post traumatic stress disorder. You mask it with kindness, but your kindness is a reflex, an old habit, a tic born from the guilt you bear. The people you help are all faceless to you. Were I to replace them with someone else tomorrow, you likely would not notice. And then, there's your aversion to aggression of all kinds, even when the situation perfectly warrants it," he nodded at the grave of Bunpuku Chagama. "Even monks with his temperament would fight back if someone was about to choke them to death. Your refusal to use your power for violence is not because you subscribe to some extreme pacifist ideals. You refuse to use your power because you fear it, you fear losing control, you fear repeating the mistake that saw you ending up here, in this land once more."

Everything he said was true. She had thought that she had hidden the truth very well, but was in fact quite transparent. And that just served to illuminate how much she didn't know about these people.

"And… and now that you know, what then? What happens now?" Were she to be cast out? Was she to be put in prison? He was paranoid as paranoia came, and loved his village so fiercely he would do anything to keep it safe and well. Many among the Go-Ikenban and the other top warriors of the village were the same, all born of the same mindset, the will of those who survived and conquered the great desert. She supposed it was simply how they lived. Kagome waited for the verdict. Regardless of whatever extreme measures the Kazekage had thought up to contain her and the power, she couldn't see herself resisting. She truly had nowhere left to go, and no one to turn to. She had very little resistance left in her now. Almost none. But what he said next was nothing of the sort.

"What happens next is up to you."

Kagome blinked, for a moment not believing her ears. Up to her? As if he hadn't constantly tried to tell her where she should be and what she should do since the day she met the chimera boy.

"Surprised? Don't be," he said in response to the questions in her expression. "This story is not such a rarity in this world. You are neither the first nor the last to be born with powers that are coveted by others. First generation bearers of powerful kekkei genkai rarely lead a peaceful life. Most die before they reach adulthood, crushed under the weight of their own power. There are hundreds of villages and small settlements for chakra wielders, but it takes a village of certain size and maturity to know how to handle first generation kekkei genkai of that magnitude. But even in our village, one among the great five, there are only two paths for these first children."

He held up a finger.

"One is complete abstention. A normal, quiet life is available to those who obey the village directives, stay out of the political arena, and render a great service to the public. That path is open to you, but something tells me you won't sit quietly by on the sidelines like a good little girl…"

He gave her a shrewd look, wordlessly referencing all of the troubles she had kicked up recently. Indeed she would not. She didn't mean to barge into their complex world, or to superimpose her values onto theirs, but there were things in the way the village operated that sat ill at ease with Kagome's sensibilities. She hadn't seen much, but the way that the people of the Sand village's children grew up conditioned to casual aggression and violence was… unsettling to say the least. She had seen kids as young as six or seven practicing with blunted metal weapons that were designed solely to maim and kill. She had seen shops selling weapons designed to cause the maximum of pain and suffering right alongside grocery stores selling the fruits and vegetables that came out of her plantations. She understood quite well the necessity of an armed and battle-ready population in a tumultuous world, having come from the bloodiest era in Japanese history… but this cavalier approach to intentional and systematic violence was something else entirely.

"The other path," continued the Kazekage, one hand sweeping to indicate the mess of broken arrows and splintered seeds on the ground around them. "is to master every facet of your power, to master it so completely that it becomes part of you and yours to use."

"No. No… ab… absolutely not…" she wasn't aware she was speaking until the words had already left her mouth and made a round of resounding echoes in the chamber.

"Running away solves nothing, priestess," said the Kazekage sternly, the way a teacher might put a recalcitrant pupil in line.

"You don't know what… what I can do…" she snapped back.

"That might be so," he conceded. "But here is what I know. If you do not master your power, it will master you instead. Is that what you want for your future priestess? To live forever in the shadow of what you were born?"

No. But the possibility of a repeat of what had happened in the Sengoku Jidai was terrifying to consider. Here, there would be none able to stop her.

"Even… even if my power threatens your people… your village?"

His response was immediate. The collar around her neck, the bangles on her wrists, the chains on her ankles. All gold and glittering, and all suddenly grew cold and heavy on her. A reminder of what he could do. It was almost gentle by the standards of the warrior Kazekage, but his message was perfectly clear to her.

He gave her a mildly amused look. "What was it you said in the Go-Ikenban chamber? That you are made of flesh and blood just like everyone else?" His hand was held out in her direction, fingers spread as if beckoning the gold he had put on her. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

"No," replied Kagome flatly. Not after that revelation about Gaara, even if he did have his own reasoning behind it. Men like him could sacrifice anything… would sacrifice anything in the name of the good they deemed greater. There was something familiarly monstrous about that and it had never failed to make Kagome stand straighter and put her guard up whenever he was around, this unforgivingly harsh teacher she never asked for.

He seemed to be amused by her blunt answer, perhaps even approved of it. "Fair enough," he said. "Let me rephrase that then. Do you trust that I will put the safety and welfare of this village above all else? That I will do everything in my power to protect the people of this nation?"

That… that was a whole lot more complicated to answer. Not that she doubted the Kazekage would fall short of his duty as protector and leader of his village. But one person's idea of civil progress and safety was not necessarily that of other people. Still, were she to lose control, he would be the first to attempt to rein her in, dead or alive. He would likely succeed too. For all that her soul held the boundless power of the Shikon no Tama, her body was mortal and susceptible to all the weaknesses that came with it.

He read the answer in her expression and smiled darkly. "Then you have everything you need to make a decision. What shall it be for you? The quiet, protected life only provided that you obey orders? Or the freedom provided by mastering yourself?"

He stood up then, brushed the dirt and dust from his knees and nodded at Oren. Behind him, the bars that blocked the entrance into the chamber were lifted open. The grim-faced guards relaxed from their vigil and set into waiting formation.

"But we will get to that decision in another day. For now, it's past time for you to go home. Come."


End Chapter 12


1. This half chapter initially was initially 18 000 words long. When I wrote it I just thought: let's cover this and this and this, and maybe this too. Before I knew it, it had ballooned into a massive near 20k words monstrosity. So, after some consideration, I split the chapter in half. This is the first half (of the half chapter. Damn it's getting confusing). The second half is already finished and undergoing proofreading and minor rewriting of parts. I will post the next chapter in a day or two. Enjoy!