A/N: This is another short one, only ten pages, but it does explain a few things and introduce a few others. There is a method to my madness, I promise….
Disclaimer: I wish….
Words To Know:
yoroi: armor
katana: long sword; somewhere between two and four feet in length
kanzen youkai: perfect demon (h'm, wonder who this could be in reference to….)
Chapter Six: Death, Ki and Other Hazards
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
Allow me to let it go,
Allow me to be forgiven,
Show me the way to let go…
"Thomas"/ A Perfect Circle
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
She was surprised that she was still alive when Sesshoumaru touched down in front of Toutousai's cave just before sunrise.
The news had been a killing blow—whatever else remained of her heart had been ruthlessly cut down by the demon lord's words.
"He jumped down your well and broke his neck."
How much longer before the hideous aftermath of the Shikon no Tama sent her to her death?
Kagome hadn't made any response to Sesshoumaru's matter-of-fact revelation, because there was simply no response that could be made. She had cried until there was nothing left. Her heart was in shreds, irrevocably damaged. Her soul was as dead as Inuyasha. What was left? Why bother to react? What the hell was the point? It didn't change facts: Inuyasha was still dead and Kagome was still in love with him. Well fuck, look at that—it seemed she'd turned into Kikyou after all. In reverse.
At length, Sesshoumaru had stopped, taken her off his shoulder and adjusted her against him so that he could pull his youki under him and send them flying far faster than he could ever hope to leap. Kagome laid her cheek against his pelt and stared at the sky as it rushed past her but saw nothing. Not because of the speed at which they were traveling, but because…well, what was the point anymore?
Sesshoumaru wondered if he should have told the miko how Inuyasha had died. He had expected her to begin her stupid weeping again. Instead, something cold and heavy had settled over her aura, and she seemed to go limp, lifeless, against his shoulder. If he hadn't been able to hear her breathing or heart beat, he would have thought her dead. When he'd paused to switch modes of transportation and lifted her off his shoulder, her eyes had been empty. It was an expression that made him hesitate. What was this?
There was a glassy look to her eyes that he didn't particularly care for. She didn't look capable of standing and keeping her balance, so he decided it was probably best if she held onto him. He had to physically place her hands on him, one hand gripping his pelt, the other what was left of his armor. As an added precaution, he'd placed a hand on her pack, holding her to him as his youki lifted them. He'd looked down at her several times, growing more grudgingly concerned by the minute as that odd coldness wrapped itself tighter around her. What in the hell was going on now?
They didn't speak again. Even when he landed before the entrance to Toutousai's mountain forge. He simply released her, and then gently—though why he was so considerate was entirely beyond him—pried her fingers from his pelt and the armor she'd ruined. Her soulless eyes flickered up to him, then to the mouth of the cave where the old fool lived. Sesshoumaru watched her, perplexed by the change in demeanor. She moved as if she were hundreds of years old, older even than him, and that was impossible: he was a very respectable five hundred and sixty-six. But the comparison stuck with him.
And speaking of abdominally old things….
Sesshoumaru turned and strode into the cave.
"Old man," he called, raising his voice more than he generally liked to.
No answer.
"Toutousai!" he tried again a little louder, his already fragile patience wearing just a little thinner.
Again, there was no answer, and Sesshoumaru did something he had never allowed himself to do: he lost his mind.
"Toutousai, you incompetent bastard! Get out here NOW!" he roared, his voice echoing through the cavern.
An old demon with bulging eyeballs and a generally emaciated appearance emerged from some ungodly hole somewhere, looking more bugged-eyed than usual. He held that damnedable hammer in one hand, too, as if he meant to use it as protection. Sesshoumaru smiled tightly, grimly, hands twitching.
I should only be so lucky to have the baka try to use it on me, he thought to himself with a kind of homicidal glee he was beginning to get used to. Especially since it was a feeling the miko seemed to inspire in him constantly.
"Sesshoumaru?" the old man asked, sounding confused.
"Of course, who else would it be?" Sesshoumaru snapped impatiently.
Toutousai stared at him owlishly in confusion, then caught sight of his destroyed armor and let out a bellow:
"What have you done to my beautiful yoroi!"
"I didn't do anything you baka—the hanyou's bitch did it," the demon lord snarled.
"Inuyasha?" the old man asked, stopping in mid-rant to stare at the younger demon. Then he sniffed the air and walked outside, past Sesshoumaru, and abruptly stopped at the mouth of the forge.
"I'll be damned," he murmured as he watched Kagome stand in the gray light of the dawn, back to them. Sesshoumaru frowned when he realized how close to the edge she was and stepped forward to drag her away from it. As he went, he said to Toutousai,
"I wouldn't be so eager to announce that if I was you, old man."
He grabbed Kagome's arm and tugged just hard enough to pull her away from the edge, then decided he might as well drag her into the cave, since she'd be easier to keep track of if he could actually see her.
"How in the world—?" Toutousai began, then stopped as Kagome, led by Sesshoumaru, came into focus. The old man's expression sobered.
"Oh no," he murmured sadly, watching as the demon lord and the young woman entered his forge.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
Sesshoumaru threw his ruined armor at Toutousai, disappointed when the old man deftly caught it, but keeping that to himself. His eyes again went to the miko. She had quietly submitted to being placed against the cold wall, away from Toutousai's immediate work area. And she was still staring away into emptiness. It bothered him, that vacant look on her face. And he didn't know why it bothered him, which only bothered him even more.
"How did this happen?" Toutousai asked, frowning as he turned the piece over and around, studying the damage. It was rather extensive, and Toutousai was surprised that the young woman who had once traveled with Inu no Taisho's younger son had managed to destroy such a meticulously crafted piece of armor—especially when one considered the demon who had been wearing it when said destruction occurred.
"The miko made an attempt at purification," Sesshoumaru dryly replied, eyes returning to the girl. She looked even smaller somehow, as if Inuyasha's death had crushed her.
Toutousai glanced up, then followed the other demon's gaze and frowned worriedly. He looked back to Sesshoumaru, who wasn't bothering to hide his general irritation with the situation.
"I take it the attempt was admirable," Toutousai remarked with a sigh as he let the armor fall to the floor with a loud crash. His eyes went to Kagome. She hadn't even flinched.
"The admirability of the attempt does not concern this Sesshoumaru," the demon lord said with a snort. "New yoroi does."
"Do you expect me to just drop everything?" Toutousai asked irritably.
"Hai," Sesshoumaru snapped back. He schooled his features, then added, "The miko will also require a katana."
Toutousai stared at him in shock.
"A katana?" he asked, dumbfound. He looked at Kagome. Still not moving. His eyes returned to Sesshoumaru. "Can she even wield one?"
"I will worry about that." was the response.
Toutousai scratched his head thoughtfully, eyeing Kagome.
"You've decided, then, that this is the way?" he asked after a long silence.
Sesshoumaru didn't reply. Toutousai knew the answer anyway, and sighed. If he knew anything at all about Inu no Taisho's eldest son and heir—and he knew more than he would have liked—it was that once that clever mind had seized on something, no power in this world could remove it.
"Are you sure, Sesshoumaru, that the girl is able to carry out this task? She's looking a little worse for wear."
"She will survive."
Typical, Toutousai thought to himself acidly, frowning at the other demon. He knew exactly how the heartless creature had informed Kagome of the death of her beloved companion: coldly and clinically. Time hadn't softened Sesshoumaru's feelings for his younger brother; in fact, it didn't seem to have made a dent. For five years before Inuyasha's death, they had come to terms with each other and had maintained civil contact. How and why were mysteries known only to Sesshoumaru, now that his brother had left the earthly plain. Toutousai had thought that, given time, the brothers might eventually smooth out the formidable kinks in their relationship—assuming Inuyasha lasted the hundreds of thousands of years Toutousai believed would be necessary to convince Sesshoumaru that holding a grudge was a waste of energy—and he had even thought that Sesshoumaru might actually accept his younger sibling into the House of the Moon. Alas, it was not to be: Inuyasha had died and Sesshoumaru had arranged for his remains to be tended to, but there had been a bitterness to the order that tainted the gesture. Duty was now the reason, not any kind of familial affection.
And then, of course, there was the matter of his little girl….
"Old fool, you haven't answered this Sesshoumaru and I do not appreciate being ignored."
Toutousai glanced up at the young lord, pulling his gaze away from the girl, who was huddled on the floor, gripping her bow and pack, face blank and eyes void of life. He remembered seeing that expression on another person, a long time ago. In fact, it was the only time he'd ever seen that particular mourner express anything other than annoyance or boredom.
"Hai, hai," he grumbled, hand gesturing in exasperation. "I'll repair your yoroi and craft her a katana—" He frowned at his words and cut himself off abruptly.
"What now?" Sesshoumaru demanded, voice resigned.
"That last one might prove difficult," Toutousai said at long last.
Sesshoumaru looked suddenly murderous, and the old demon scrambled onward in his explanation, wishing to head-off a nasty, and likely very bloody and painful, altercation:
"I mean, her being a miko and all, and my weaponry being youki-based…the two don't exactly mix well, as you already found out," he added, gesturing pointedly to the remains of Sesshoumaru's armor on the floor before him.
Sesshoumaru inhaled slowly.
"Does that mean you will be unable to craft her a katana?" he questioned, pronouncing each syllable with care. The swordsmith knew it was an attempt at keeping his temper intact.
"No, only that it will be more difficult."
"How much more difficult?"
Toutousai shrugged. "Not sure," he replied after scratching his chin and thinking the matter over a bit. "Might be a week's worth of work." he meekly estimated at a scalding glare from the demon lord.
"You will have three days," Sesshoumaru said.
Toutousai stared at him in shock, then puffed up with righteous indignation.
"Three days? How dare you! Do you know how much care has to be taken in crafting a katana? You're lucky I've even agreed to this—"
"And you are excruciatingly fortunate that I find you so useful or I would have ripped your still-beating heart out of your wizened body," Sesshoumaru said softly, voice unnerving in its serenity. "I do not repeat myself, old man."
Toutousai stayed quiet, and Sesshoumaru turned and strode out of the cave into the dawning morning. The old demon watched him go, then sighed and looked at Kagome. He rose and started breakfast, then picked up two cups of tea and went over to her.
"Kagome, wasn't it?" he asked with a lopsided smile as he sat down in front of her.
She raised her eyes and stared at him, then looked at the cups he held. He silently handed her one, and she accepted it, wrapping her hands around it. She didn't sip immediately, just held it, as if warming her hands or perhaps drawing some comfort from its heat.
"I do enjoy having my tea first thing in the morning," he said conversationally. "A small pleasure, much like the company of a pretty young lady." He grinned winningly, hoping to get a response.
She watched him for a moment, then dropped her eyes to the tea and took a sip.
Toutousai sighed and set his tea aside.
"Kagome, child, about Inuyasha—"
"No," she said, not meeting his startled gaze.
"No?" he repeated, bemused.
"No," she repeated, voice cracking. He didn't smell tears though. That was a good sign.
"All right," he agreed, scratching his head, "no."
She nodded, took another sip, then leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. She looked drawn and pale in the morning light that crept into the cave, sad and broken, like a misused doll.
On second thought, no tears might not be such a good sign.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
Kagome didn't speak again until midday.
Sesshoumaru had disappeared for parts unknown, though considering the waves of rage and frustration rolling off of him when he'd left, Toutousai thought that the younger demon had probably gone to take out his feelings on some poor, unsuspecting stand of trees somewhere.
As for himself, he was busy repairing said demon's armor. It was nothing especially labor-intensive, simply annoying, and he muttered to himself about puppies abusing works of art as he fused plates together.
Kagome hadn't moved. She'd eaten the food he gave her without argument, and she had been quiet and still ever since. In fact, if not for the unusual smell of a human woman wafting throughout the forge, Toutousai would have forgotten she was there.
"Toutousai-ojii-san," she called during a lull between his hammer's pounding.
Her voice startled him and he yelped and jumped around. Ordinarily, he would have been extremely annoyed with the speaker for Number One: interrupting his work (especially when his client was as exacting and potentially deadly as Sesshoumaru) and Number Two: scaring him out of his wits. But it was the first sound she'd made since saying "No" earlier, and the poor thing had obviously been having a hard time of things lately—just look who she was stuck traveling with. So he decided that being annoyed was not the proper procedure in this particular case.
"Hai?" he replied, setting the armor aside for now and walking to her side.
"Tell me how Inuyasha died."
His good cheer immediately left him.
"Sesshoumaru didn't tell you?" he asked, settling down beside her, his bones popping audibly. Both of them ignored the sounds.
"He said Inuyasha jumped down a well and broke his neck."
Toutousai sighed and scratched underneath his chin thoughtfully.
"That's how it happened all right," he admitted, not meeting her gaze. That would be too much, to watch her reaction to the story. "Inuyasha lived in Goshinboku's branches after Naraku was defeated, sort of protecting that village over there—"
"Edo," Kagome quietly supplied.
"—and basically being himself. He kept the kitsune with him for a time, and then the kitsune left. Presumably to find its own kind, if it could. Inuyasha was listless after that. I think the kitsune's company had eased his loneliness—the houshi and the taijiya had left too, to live their lives. In any case, he had an odd sort of fascination with the well outside of the village."
"The Bone-Eater's Well." Kagome said.
"I never caught the name. He'd hang around it when he wasn't patrolling the area for marauding youkai. He'd jumped down the well before, Sesshoumaru said, as if expecting something to happen. I couldn't possibly guess at what, though. Anyway, there was a time, five years before Inuyasha died, that he and his brother began to treat each other civil. I think they were finally realizing that it was just the two of them left. Inuyasha's death changed all that, though. One day that boy jumped down the well, like he had maybe a hundred times before, only something happened on the way down and he hit the bottom at a bad angle and snapped his neck. The village miko, an elderly woman, found him in the well. She went looking for him when he didn't show up to take asagohan with her. She notified Sesshoumaru.
"He came, listened to the story and told the miko to bury him by Goshinboku, that he'd provide the marker. Then he left, and I never heard him speak of his half-brother again until today, when he said it was you who ruined my handiwork."
Silence reigned, and then Kagome asked,
"He never became human?"
Toutousai shook his head. "Nope. Stayed a hanyou, of course."
Kagome nodded, then stood and brushed absently at her hakama.
"Arigatou, Toutousai-ojii-san," she murmured, and then she left the forge.
Toutousai stared after her, surprised by the reaction. He hadn't felt any discernable change in her demeanor, and he'd been expecting weeping of the most distressing sort. It was an odd and unsettling reaction—he would have preferred the tears.
Kagome walked down the mountain a ways, picking her way idly. She was to blame—it was as simple and awful as that.
The well. He'd been jumping down the well, trying to get to her, just as she had been trying to get to him, and it had killed him in the end. It was her fault he was dead—her fucking fault. And there wasn't any way she could fix that, or make it any easier to accept. She had killed him, same as if she'd pushed him.
She sat down on a rock and looked around, but didn't see anything. There was nothing redeeming about the world around you when you were a murderer. Or in her case, murderess.
She wasn't consciously waiting for Sesshoumaru's return. It just happened that when he leapt up, he landed on the ledge where she was sitting.
"Go away," he told her.
"I was here first—you go away." she replied, eyes closed. That was why she missed the expression of seething outrage on his face.
"Miko—"
"Go to hell."
There was a long pause, and then Sesshoumaru said, voice dangerously calm,
"I beg your pardon?"
"I said go to hell."
"Any particular reason?"
"Not at the moment, no. I'll let you know when I come up with one."
Neither said anything to the other for a long time, and Kagome opened her eyes and looked at him. His eyes were searching the horizon, a habit she had noticed. He was looking for something, or someone. Were they being followed?
So what if we are, that little voice in her head said, does that change anything?
"Sesshoumaru," she said quietly, and he looked down at her, expression dark. For once, she didn't care. "Why am I here?"
He stared at her for a long while in silence, his face not telling her anything. Then, he quietly said,
"I believe I mentioned having you purify youkai."
"All the more reason for me to know what the hell is going on, don't you think?" she asked, never raising her voice.
He went back to watching the horizon, and Kagome sighed wearily and rose. She wasn't in the mood for his head games.
"Look Asshole," she began, flexing her fingers, "I may not have complete control of my ki, but if you piss me off enough, I'm sure I could do some damage, so start talking."
He slowly turned his head to stare at her, a rather hostile brand of amusement on his face.
"Are you threatening me, human?" he asked.
She raised an eyebrow. "Do I stutter?" she returned. "Start talking."
He moved before she finished speaking, grabbing her by the neck and slamming her against the mountain side. His eyes bored into hers, furious with her for her brazenness. She was momentarily breathless, and the fact that he was squeezing her neck didn't help either. Her ki began to gather, and Kagome decided that it was time to show the demon lord that he wasn't the only one with big guns.
She reached up and grabbed the wrist of the hand that held her, and her hand became illuminated with bright light. He abruptly dropped her with a hiss and clutched his wrist, which was smoking. Kagome fell to the ledge, coughing and holding her neck. The wound he'd inflicted was still healing and tender, and Kagome felt a flash of annoyance that he would abuse her again so soon after that little ordeal. She got to her feet. He was watching her, pure hatred alive in his expression.
"As I was saying," she rasped, then coughed. "We can stay here and take turns trying to kill each other, or you can tell me why I'm here. I don't much care, one way or the other. Ball's in your court."
He glared at her for several moments, then let out a threatening growl and let go of his wrist. It was a very ugly red color, and it was in the shape of her hand. It was also still smoking. That would take a while to heal, she noted. The last time she'd burned him, the attack hadn't been intentional or quite so concentrated, so there was more extensive damage now.
"For the past eight years I've been dealing with some kind of youkai," he said sullenly. The bitterness in his voice wasn't completely due to being coerced into speaking, Kagome knew. "I have not yet had the satisfaction of facing this enemy—it's a cowardly bastard, sending its odious minions to do its dirty work."
"You've never seen it?" she asked.
He sent her a baleful look. "Do I stutter?" he snapped. Kagome, in turn, raised her eyebrow in uncanny imitation of him.
"Not the last time I checked," she replied dryly. The look he gave her was positively violent, and she wisely decided not to goad him anymore.
"So what's the problem, then? You're a rather powerful youkai—I've heard that some've called you the kanzen youkai. Shouldn't you be able to take care of this thing without the help of someone you so obviously despise?" she asked.
"I should, but I can't seem to," he replied irritably. "There is something about this particular youkai that makes even this Sesshoumaru ineffective. To my knowledge, however, no miko is ineffective against youkai. That is where you come in."
"Great," she sighed. "That's why you wanted to know if I owned a katana, wasn't it?"
"Even you will admit that arrows are inadequate once a battle reaches a certain point. Your dealings with Naraku should have taught you that, if nothing else."
She rubbed her temple. What a good thing she had decided to be so composed about this whole affair, or else she'd have been taking a major shit right about now. What a good thing she was finally capable of being composed—and wasn't it absolutely hideous that it had taken Inuyasha's death and her complicity in it for her to finally achieve that state.
"So how long have you been looking for me?"
"It took me three days to get to the human village."
She glanced at him, surprised. "Three days? You're that close to Edo?"
"No—I traveled that quickly. This youkai…there are lulls between its attacks. This has been the longest stretch between battles, so it can start again at any moment. I prefer not to take anymore time than is necessary to get back to the Western Lands."
"How long has it been?"
"Two years."
"Shit."
"My sentiments exactly."
Kagome and Sesshoumaru fell silent, both watching the horizon, each lost in his or her own thoughts. Had either been capable of reading minds, they would have been surprised at how closely their thoughts ran: Sesshoumaru was wondering if he'd made a mistake in recruiting the untrained miko; Kagome was wondering if she had enough ability to defeat the mysterious demon.
Kagome was the first one to break the silence. She glanced over at the demon's wrist. The burn hadn't even begun to heal. She doubted it would for several hours.
"Here," she said, "let me take a look."
"I'm capable of healing myself without the assistance of a human."
She sighed. "Duh—I just want to see the damage I've done."
She reached over and took hold of his hand. He jerked away and she frowned.
"Damn it Sesshoumaru," she said, reaching over again.
"Miko, don't make me fling you over this ledge." he said with weary patience, stepping away from her.
"Would it make you sorry?" she asked nastily
"It would ruin my plans and cause me more annoyance," he replied condescendingly.
"How terrible for you," she snapped, lunging for him.
He easily sidestepped her, but she caught herself and made another dive for him that he almost didn't dodge, since he'd been expecting her to land flat on her face.
It was the weirdest game of tag Kagome had ever played, and if her mind hadn't been so focused on seeing what she'd done, the thought might have made her laugh for the first time in over a week.
She finally became so annoyed with him that she, after getting in a rather timely lunge, punched him in the shoulder, and he whipped around and sent her one of his patented "And-now-you-will-die!" looks. He went to grab her, but she charged right into him and tackled him to the ground—the look of shock on his face was a scream—sat on his stomach and grabbed his wrist. The second her fingers made contact with the burn, however, she was hit with a vision of a little girl who was no longer a little girl, but a grown woman with two children…they were laying in a room, dying, rotting from the inside out, and she could smell the death in the air and she could hear them whimpering.
He was staring at her face, and if he'd been in his true form, the hair on his back would have stood on end. She'd gone white, eyes wide and horror-struck, as if she was watching something truly hideous play out right before her eyes. And then suddenly she let go of his wrist as if it had burned her, both hands going to her ears and eyes screwed shut.
"Stop!" she screamed. "Stop stop stop!"
She fell off of him and curled up into a ball on the ledge, still screaming for something or someone to stop whatever it was that was happening to her. Sesshoumaru leapt to his feet, and whirled around, unsheathing Toukijin, eyes narrowed and darting around. He knew he was being watched, and he knew his enemy was capable of manipulating the minds of others—was that what was happening to the miko?
The screaming abruptly stopped, and he looked at her and found her still curled up, crying brokenly and hiccupping. He slowly sheathed Toukijin and stared at her.
What, his mind screamed, had just happened!
"Miko," he said quietly.
She looked up at him and sniffled. The raw pain there startled him, and something else …was that…pity? He stiffened at the idea.
"What is wrong with you?" he asked sharply.
"I'm sorry," she managed to get out.
"Stop that despicable weeping," he ordered, walking to her and hauling her to her feet. "You embarrass yourself with your disgusting lack of restraint."
She nodded meekly, wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her haori and sniffling loudly.
"Get back up to that stupid old bastard's forge," he snapped, "you've displeased me enough for one day."
She left him there, still trying to get ahold of herself as she picked her way back up the mountain. He turned his back on her and glared out at the land around him, listening to her noisy retreat. It wasn't until he folded his arms that he noticed that his wrist had healed.
