Hurricanes-4,000; Florida-0: Ah, hurricanes—one of the perks of living in Florida. They're right up there with mosquitoes and the West Nile virus, and 90º+ weather. I totally need to get the hell out of here, but I have relatives in other states, or issues with the weather in the rest of the country, so I think I'm screwed. Sigh. So much for that solution. Anyway: sorry about the delay, but things were sort of out of my hands, and I didn't get my power back until a few days ago. A word of advice: if you ever get the opportunity to live without power for days and days and days…DON'T. At least we're lucky that we got hit in October instead of August. And aside from some tree and plant and roof shingle fatalities, everyone in my neighborhood was okie dokie. But that's enough of that—moving along: Odious and Kamira, thanks. I'm glad you (and every one else who dropped in, hopefully) enjoyed chpt 8, even if it was insanely long. This one won't kill you (I trust), just eighteen pages. I'm not sure how I feel about it. I don't like it as much as I like chpt 8, but I don't hate it either. It's just sort of…there. Oh well, I can't fiddle with it anymore, or I will hate it, so here it is, chpt 9, in all it's ambivalent glory.
Disclaimer: I…dude, do I really even need to do this at this point?
Words To Know:
No vocab this week. : ).
Chapter Nine: Purity
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Humble and helpless,
I'm learning to pray,
Praying for visions,
To show me the way…
"Thomas"/ A Perfect Circle
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Kagome collapsed on the floor of the shrine and sobbed.
Mamoru had escorted her into the building, then let himself out, saying he would wait for her outside, that she could take as much time as she liked. She doubted it, not with Sesshoumaru out there.
She had stopped being rational a long time ago. Even so, she was still, on some level, astonished by the breakdown she was in the middle of. This was so…devastating. So terrifying. She felt as though her mind had splintered, like her heart. How had she been able to ignore these feelings for so long?
A long time later, exhausted but not even close to feeling better, she managed to roll over onto her back and stare up at the ceiling.
"I'm losing my mind," she said to herself, almost choking on her own voice. "I'm going to go insane here, and no will be able to help me." She closed her eyes. "I don't belong here." she whispered. It was the first time she'd ever admitted that out loud. Always, it had echoed in the darker corners of her mind, a worry only half realized and totally ignored. Just as she had disregarded outside insistence that she didn't belong here. First from Inuyasha. And then from Kikyou….
"You do not belong here, girl," Kikyou said coldly.
It was just the two of them, alone in the woods. They had never quite reached an accord. It was hard to, at least for Kagome. After all, they were sharing a soul; that Kagome had most of it was beside the point. They were still sharing it. Obviously, the natural order of things did not permit for two individuals to share a soul at the same time, so one of them belonged here, in Sengoku Jidai, and one did not. It was just a question of who.
Technically, Kikyou was not a part of this world. She was dead, a clay pot. An empty shell running on the most malicious scraps of her former self. That she had died wrongly, before her true time, even, only fed the darker aspects of her bit of soul, only deepened her bitterness and sense of betrayal.
And yet, neither was Kagome. She was the reincarnation, a girl not of this time, but of one five hundred years in the future. She didn't speak the lingo and didn't follow the rules.
Still. Someone had to be right. Which meant someone had to be wrong.
"Maybe," Kagome had been willing to concede, because that was the way she was. "But I'm still here."
The dead miko said nothing in return. Her facial features only hardened further. They stood in silence, staring at each other. Trying to decide who was right. Trying to decide who was wrong. And wondering if they would ever be able to accept the outcome, when it came. For all their differences, the sense that they were trespassing in territory where neither was welcome was something common in two women who looked the same but were at opposite ends of the spectrum.
"Kikyou," Kagome said softly, after a time, "please don't make Inuyasha follow you to hell."
This was a real and true sticking point between them.
"He has given me his word," Kikyou immediately returned, voice hard and icy.
Kagome watched her sadly. She was beginning to realize that they would never reach any kind of agreement on the matter of Inuyasha. Not when the miko couldn't let go. And certainly not when the girl from the well couldn't understand her own soul….
Kagome drifted back into consciousness. She became aware of her surroundings, but didn't open her eyes. She remembered that confrontation. In the end, nothing had been decided there, on that night. Kikyou had simply left. Inuyasha had followed after her for a time, then come back. And Kagome had died a little more inside, because even though she'd accepted that Kikyou would always be a part of Inuyasha, that didn't change the fact that she loved him. Not too long thereafter, Naraku had finally gotten rid of the last vestiges of Onigumo, and he had shattered Kikyou into the dust she had once been.
In front of Inuyasha.
Kagome didn't remember what had happened after that, because the bit of her soul that had nourished Kikyou for so long had come back to her. The reunion had not been a happy or easy one, and the last thing Kagome remembered of the day Kikyou had "died" was a blast of colors and her eyes rolling into the back of her head. When she had next awakened, Sango had been cradling her on Kirara's back, her friend white with terror as they sped toward Edo and Kaede-baa-chan. Spotty, hazy half-memories followed, and then Inuyasha's face looming before hers, amber eyes unblinking and heartsick, face tight and scared.
They had defeated Naraku in their next encounter with the evil hanyou. Kagome cracked open her eyelids and saw the ceiling. She stared up at it, eyes half open. How long had she been here? After a long while, she attempted a shrug, then decided that was too much trouble. Who cared, after all? There was no one left to, anymore.
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"Your brat's had her first pup, huh?"
Sesshoumaru raised an eyebrow at the smirking hanyou before him.
"That's what the missive said," he returned, holding the parchment out to Inuyasha. His younger brother took it, scanned it, grunted. Then he looked up at his elder brother.
"I guess that makes you a grandpa, ne Onii-san?" he asked with a dark chuckle.
Sesshoumaru sent him a glare, snapped the parchment out of his hands and tucked it back into the sleeve of his kimono.
"Hardly," he sneered.
Inuyasha laughed. "I can see the little bastard now—'Hey Ojii-san, show me your Dokkasou again'." He eyed his brother, his expression sobering. "He's not a bad-looking brat, Sesshoumaru. For a weak human."
The youkai lord's eyes flickered over to the hanyou standing with him in the light snow.
"You've seen this child?"
Inuyasha nodded, hands in his haori. He suddenly went rigid, eyes widening. He looked around, then seemed to realize something and chuckled quietly to himself.
"Scenting ghosts, Inuyasha?" Sesshoumaru asked dryly.
"Something like that," the younger man admitted, his eyes distant and unfocused. "Caught a whiff of something. Thought I recognized the scent of someone I used to know." His vision cleared and he shrugged, smiling self-deprecatingly. "Wrong person."
Sesshoumaru was silent. This wasn't the first time such a thing had happened in front of him. Somehow, he knew it was that foolish human girl who used to journey with Inuyasha. Somehow, he knew it was her scent, her ghost, that haunted the hanyou. Rin had told him, once during one of her inane ramblings, that it was so, but he'd known before that.
"Of course you confused the scent," Sesshoumaru scoffed, "you have the inferior hanyou sense of smell."
"Self-righteous bastard," Inuyasha muttered under his breath. He sent Sesshoumaru a withering glare. "Go visit your brat, Ojii-san."
Sesshoumaru sent his brother a look that told him, in no uncertain terms, that he would deal with the insult at a later date. Inuyasha only smiled smugly.
"You know where to find me," he said.
"A human could find you—you smell atrocious," Sesshoumaru shot back, turning his back and walking away.
"Fuck you Sesshoumaru."
The youkai lord didn't reply. He glanced back once. Inuyasha was still there, watching him. He looked more alone than Sesshoumaru could ever remember seeing him. It was an odd, stark realization. The gloomy sky and bitter weather only emphasized it. Instead of looking defiant, Inuyasha looked small…abandoned, even. He nearly asked the hanyou to accompany him. Before he could, his brother turned and began walking away, back to his village and his tree and his well. And his ghost.
Sesshoumaru opened his eyes and frowned.
What in the world had triggered that? It was so random…. His eyes went to the shrine and narrowed. The monk was sitting on the shallow veranda. There was no sign of the miko. He sent his youki out, searching for the miko's ki. He frowned when his youki finally brushed up against it and drew back, wary. Instead of brushing back or trying to push his youki away, however, her ki merely stayed docile, offering no resistance or alarm. His youki nudged again. Nothing. His frown deepened. Just what in the seven hells was going on in that foul-smelling little box, anyway?
He once again nudged her ki with his youki, found that it had receded quite a bit since his last nudge. Almost to the point of dormancy. It made him tense up, and moved him to rise and glide over the grass toward the shrine. The monk lifted his head at the demon lord's approach.
Sesshoumaru stopped at the veranda, his expression dark.
"Monk, what of the miko," he said quietly.
A corner of Mamoru's mouth lifted. "She's finding her way, Sesshoumaru-sama," he said quietly. "Let her."
Sesshoumaru lifted a disbelieving brow. "And incense will assist her in this endeavor?" he asked, voice biting.
Mamoru eyed him for a long while in silence.
He was more than a little astonished that the youkai lord had sought him out to deal with the miko. Just what the connection was between them was still unclear. He thought it might have something to do with the recent rumblings in the west. For their part, the taijiya village had had a rough time indeed when an army of youkai had cut a wide swath of blood and destruction through this part of the country six years earlier. The countryside was only just now recovering. But that was another story.
The whys didn't intrigue him as much as the odd way the miko and the youkai handled each other. They acted like children, frankly. Neither seemed able to quite stand the other. Fate had thrown them together, and it was obvious that they resented the circumstances and company. Kagome-sama seemed to swing between indignation and acceptance; the youkai lord's feelings were less clear, though it was fairly obvious he was having trouble keeping his thoughts free of murder.
Tonight had been different. There was no change to Sesshoumaru-sama's feelings. He had handled the miko with great care despite his irritation with her, but Mamoru knew that the taiyoukai, except for the occasional scrape, was careful to never give the miko the full force of his power and strength. He was well aware of the fragility of humanity, after all.
It was the miko who had changed. When Mamoru had seen her, she had been desperately clinging to the taiyoukai. It was a shock, especially when one considered the usual tenor of her interaction with Sesshoumaru-sama, where a humming violent undercurrent was always present. It was the first time he had seen her need the youkai lord who seemed to cause her so much discomfort and trouble. And it was astonishing that she would need him, of all people.
"No," Mamoru finally corrected, "contemplation will. Meditation will. And only by being left alone, to sort through the confusion, will she find her way." He sighed and glanced over his shoulder, at the shrine. "It is a painful process when one is so full of grief."
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So much trouble, and all for the little pink ball of glass in her hands.
Kagome eyed the completed Shikon no Tama. And waited for that feeling of accomplishment, that feeling of having done good, to hit her. That feeling that the world had changed. It didn't come.
She looked up at the sky. It seemed lighter somehow, more radiant. She noticed for the first time that the whole world looked a little brighter, that some kind of previously imperceptible veil seemed to have been lifted. Had Naraku's influence really reached so far as to defile the sky and dull the world? She wouldn't have doubted it, if only because he had just been so malevolent. Certainly, something so foul would thus pollute everything around it, even Nature itself. It was a miko's job—her job—to purify what had been tainted. And even knowing she had decontaminated the world didn't make her feel any different than she had for the past two years. It was so anti-climatic, after everything that had happened. Almost an after-thought.
She had left the others at Kaede-baa-chan's hut and walked to Goshinboku. It was her turn now. Inuyasha and his brother had battled Naraku, but she and Inuyasha had delivered the death blow, he with Tessaiga and she with a purified arrow. It had been fitting. The evil demon destroyed by two of the individuals he'd cursed, even if Kagome was really only standing in for Kikyou. Still, her soul was Kikyou's.
Sango and Miroku had attended to Kohaku, removed the shard from him. Sango had held her brother's hand and sobbed while he died. It had taken some convincing and soothing from both Miroku and Kagome to get her to let go of her brother's body. Then Sesshoumaru had stepped forward. He and Inuyasha had exchanged their usual pleasantries during the battle against Naraku, fighting each other as much as they fought their enemy. The demon lord had cocked his head and eyed the dead boy, then drew forth Tenseiga. The sword had begun glowing. Steel whistled through air. Then Kohaku's eyes were opening, and Sango was crying again and Sesshoumaru was sheathing his inheritance, face as blank as ever.
Kagome had thanked his retreating back. He hadn't replied. And she hadn't minded, knowing that her thanks didn't matter to him. They had seen him later, his retainer and ward in tow. Rin had scampered forward, greeted them all cheerfully, then handed Kohaku a sorry clutch of flowers. Kagome wondered where, in all this vast ugliness, the girl had been able to find them.
"Sesshoumaru-sama said you were feeling better now," she chirped happily.
Kohaku looked at the silent demon, then back to Rin and nodded.
"Arigatou, Rin-chan," he said.
The girl smiled, then bowed, said her goodbyes and returned to her master's side. Sesshoumaru was already walking away.
"Asshole," Inuyasha muttered.
Kagome sent him a weary frown. "He helped us, Inuyasha," she reminded him.
Inuyasha snorted, but didn't say anything else.
They had returned to Edo, the completed Shikon no Tama hanging around Kagome's neck. But instead of being happy it was all over, they had been curiously subdued. There was an uncomfortable question hanging over the group demanding an answer: what happened next? It was an inquiry for which no one had a rejoinder.
So now she sat under Goshinboku, staring at the afternoon sky and contemplating her part in this intricate little drama of Fate's. She was a miko. The Shikon no Tama, by virtue of being in her predecessor's possession, was her responsibility. And the only way to make it disappear, to free Midoriko from it and free the world of it, was to wish on it. Seemed simple enough…right, just like everything else in her life for the past two years.
What happened next? What should she wish for?
"Oi."
She looked up and found Inuyasha watching her, looking vaguely annoyed. She smiled at him.
"Hi," she said brightly.
He rolled his eyes, walked to where she was sitting and plopped down on the grass next to her.
"Wench, what are you doing?" he asked, his irritation in full evidence.
She sighed and held up the Shikon no Tama. "Trying to wish upon an earthly star," she replied, frowning.
He snorted. There was no gruffness to the action, however. Instead, they watched the jewel in silence, staring at it as that damnedable question hovered over them.
"Weird, isn't it?" she asked at long last.
"What is?" Inuyasha returned, looking at her.
"We've been running all over Japan for the last two years, trying to put this thing together. And now that it is together…I don't know…I feel like something's missing. I feel like I should be…I don't know." She finally shrugged helplessly. "I can't explain it."
The half-demon beside her didn't reply. For once.
"Now what?" he asked a long time later, breaking the heavy silence that had settled over them. Both were aware that he seemed to be repeating the question that pressed over them, that hung over them as horribly as Naraku's miasma.
"I don't know," she admitted, because that was the way she was. "But we'll figure it out."
Kagome drifted back to consciousness.
The incense, she decided, looking around blearily. The incense was making her sleepy or loopy or something.
She managed to get on her hands and knees before her exhausted body threatened to give out and send her sprawling to the floor. She scrubbed her hands over her face, wiping away the tears that had been flowing from her shut eyes. She hadn't thought of the day she had made her wish in years. It was simply too painful for her. She had made her wish in Kaede-baa-chan's hut, her home from home, with Sango, Miroku, Shippou, Kirara, Obaa-chan, and Inuyasha there. She had opened her eyes, watched along with everyone else as the Shikon no Tama disappeared in a blast of colored light right before their eyes. She had shared a relieved smile with Inuyasha. And then she had been shooting through space and time, going too fast to see where the hell she was or where the hell she was going. And then…. Then, she had opened her eyes and found herself lying at the bottom of the Bone-Eater's Well. A look up had confirmed that she was in her own time.
She sighed, sat back on her bottom and drew her legs to her chest wearily, laying her forehead on her knees.
"I didn't get to say good-bye," she murmured. It was something that had haunted her these past ten years. She had not been given the chance to bid her friends farewell before Fate had decided that her purpose was complete in this era and her presence was no longer necessary. Couldn't she have been allowed that much, if she couldn't stay with Inuyasha?
Some way or another, Kagome found herself talking. To whom wasn't clear at first. She just suddenly became aware of the fact that she was talking. When she looked up, she saw what she had been too grief-stricken to notice: there were candles burning, lit for Miroku and Sango. And she realized that this was a shrine to her friends. And she suddenly knew who she was talking to.
"I'm so sorry you guys," she said quietly, crawling forward to rest her forehead against the edge of the little table holding the candles and incense. She sat down and closed her eyes. "I wanted to get back here so bad and see you. But the well wouldn't let me through until now. I don't know why. I almost wish I hadn't come back. Then I'd still be able to think you were still alive."
She talked, first to Sango, then to Miroku, then to both of them. About the village and their children…and then about Inuyasha. She talked until her voice gave out, and then she just sat with her forehead against the table's edge. She had lost all semblance of time. She had even forgotten that Sesshoumaru was supposed to be waiting for her.
In time, she fell asleep. She didn't dream or go over the past. She simply slept. And while she did, she was half-aware that the world around her seemed to shift a little, and she didn't feel quite so alone anymore.
It was good to just sleep.
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Sesshoumaru took Mamoru's seat on the veranda when one of the monk's relatives called him back to the taijiya village. The demon lord hadn't heard the details, seeing as he didn't care, but he had heard the word "exorcism" mentioned. It was just as well. Sesshoumaru preferred his own company.
He sniffed the air. Still just incense. He scowled. The stuff was beginning to get on his nerves. And once more, because he had gotten into the habit as the night had turned to day, he sent his youki out in search of the miko's ki. Again, he got no response. It was present, but unresponsive. He wouldn't have called it calm, exactly, just sort of… slumbering. In a state of stasis, if you will. He sniffed the incense-tinged air once more, and wondered again just what in the hell was in that incense that it should so drastically induce the miko's chaotic ki into dormancy. He had heard of soothing the soul, but this was ridiculous.
He leaned against the well-tended shrine and shut his eyes. Toutousai had been by the taijiya village, asking about them. Sesshoumaru had heard him, though faintly; the trees distorted sounds, made it necessary for him to strain his hearing to catch what was being said. The swordsmith was lucky he hadn't decided to investigate Kagome's condition for himself. Sesshoumaru held him completely and utterly responsible for the miko's present state, although he knew, on some level, that he was being foolish. He didn't care. He had been subjected to the woman's grief and it was an experience he fervently wished he had never been witness or party to.
"Humans," he muttered to himself. "So ragged and fallible."
He chose to ignore the fact that, despite all appearances, he was no less fallible.
He had just drifted into deep sleep when something nudged his youki. He was too far gone to awaken, however, and he didn't quite notice the nudge.
His youki retreated, recognizing the purity of the energy as that belonging to a miko. The ki also retreated, then tentatively nudged his youki again. His youki nudged back, curious by the holy ki's benign, almost friendly, gesture. They nudged back and forth before allowing each other, warily, to venture closer. In time, the two opposite energies found a sort of peaceful state of co-existence, intertwining, rather connecting, like two halves of a whole.
Sesshoumaru slept on. And while he did, he was half-aware that the world around him seemed to shift a little, and he didn't feel quite so alone anymore.
It was good to just sleep.
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Mamoru stopped at the edge of the forest and watched the shrine. Sesshoumaru-sama was still there, guarding the little memorial and the unhappy young woman inside. He wondered how Kagome-sama was fairing, but he didn't dare venture further. He felt the youkai lord's youki at work and he was hesitant to disturb him, particularly since Sesshoumaru-sama had not exactly been a paradigm of sociability when the monk had taken his leave earlier to deal with an exorcism in the village not far from the taijiya village.
The old monk sighed and smiled ruefully. He had had a mostly cordial association with Sesshoumaru-sama for the last twenty-two years, having learned how best to deal with the taiyoukai and keep the village safe from his wrath. Since his father's death, he had taken up the formal title of village headman, being the eldest son. But he had actually been handling everything that being headman entailed, from disputes between relatives to missives—or worse but thankfully rare, visits—from the youkai currently ensconced on the veranda of his parents' shrine, since the death of his mother and the subsequent depression of his father. Officially, Miroku had held the title; his eldest son had done the actual work. Mamoru had never held it against his father. The man had lost his wife, his life's partner. It was to be expected that he would have other concerns.
Mamoru sighed once more and then made his decision. As anxious as he was to check up on Kagome-sama, there was Sesshoumaru-sama to consider. And Mamoru did not want to jeopardize the polite agreement the taijiya village had made with the youkai lord all those long years ago.
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Sesshoumaru slowly became aware of the world around him.
He opened his eyes and, first and foremost, searched for enemies lurking anywhere nearby. Finding nothing worth particular note or alarm, he breathed deeply. And instantly regretted it when he inhaled a good bit of incense. The peaceful mood he'd awakened in died as he cursed under his breath.
The day was ending, the sun sinking below the horizon, and the miko still hadn't come out or made a sound; the last thing he'd heard was the quiet murmur of her voice as she spoke. She was speaking too softly for him to catch what she was saying, which in the end was just as well. He already thought she made no sense. There was no need for proof.
As had become his habit, he sent his youki out in search of the miko's ki. And was stunned when, upon finding it and nudging it, her ki nudged back. His youki immediately pulled back and away. Sesshoumaru sat and waited for the miko's ki to nudge his youki. When it didn't, he frowned. Apparently, that had been a warning that she wished to be left alone. At the very least, it was a sign that she was aware of who was in the vicinity; he doubted very much that her ki would have reacted so meekly with the youki of a strange youkai.
It would seem he had more waiting ahead of him.
Kagome's eyes shot open when she felt the chill brush of youki along her spine; it had taken her a second to realize who was making the contact. Her ki responded of its own accord, but Kagome made sure to keep it in check. Then, she leaned back and looked around, rubbing her forehead.
Falling asleep against a table edge was not a good idea, she reflected absently as she looked around.
The candles were burning down, and the incense had burned out. Its scent hung thickly in the air. She sniffed delicately. There was definitely something in the incense, she decided, scooting back from the table.
"What the hell is in that stuff?" she murmured. She made a mental note to ask Mamoru. After thanking him for his help, such as it were.
She sighed, still tired and now sore, so she laid down on her side on the cool wood floor, head pillowed by her arm and watched the immaculate little table that held the two candles burning for her friends, and two incense burners. The little shrine house was a little over-warm, but comforting. It rather reminded her of her home.
She was surprised when she didn't feel the overwhelming wave of homesickness that had often assailed her in the past when she had gone through the well. Which was not to say that she didn't miss her family, she did. But the feeling wasn't as overpowering as it had once been. Kagome smiled wanly.
She had never quite felt as though she fit in her own era. It was a weird lurch in the back of her mind at odd moments, when she was at school or hanging out with her friends, or even at home, surrounded by her mother and brother and grandfather. It was a lurch that had grown stronger every time she returned from Sengoku Jidai. And once the well had stopped working, it was a full-blown itch, a certainty that despite being born in the Modern Era, she didn't belong there.
Then again, she had never quite felt at home here either. Even after Kikyou had "died" and the last bit of the soul they shared had been returned to her, Kagome had still felt like a stranger. Technically, she was. But, come on, two years later? Surely she would have felt…something.
Kagome had been unhappy for a long time. She knew she didn't belong where she was, but she didn't know where she should be. She didn't have a place. It was scary, not knowing where you belonged. It was a necessity for humanity, having a place, a niche, a role to fill, a purpose. Kagome had no idea what her role was. She thought it might have something to do with being a miko. Beyond that, she didn't know. It sucked having the tools but not the blueprints, she decided.
She sighed, rolled onto her back and groaned. It occurred to her that this was a shrine, and she really shouldn't be laying on the floor as though it were her bed, but she figured her old friends wouldn't mind. In fact, had they been there with her, they probably would have insisted she lay down.
Kagome smiled. Sango would be watching her like a hawk, concern obvious in every line of her face. Miroku would be sitting near by, exuding confidence and serenity, and sneaking worried glances when he thought she wasn't looking. Hell, it was almost like they were there with her. She closed her eyes and she could just picture them. It felt good. As the years had passed, she had grown more and more troubled when it seemed her memory of her friends was fading, not quite able to remember the exact color of Sango's eyes or the tenor of Miroku's voice. But here, she could see them quite vividly.
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Sesshoumaru spent yet another night at the shrine. It did nothing to improve his disposition.
Mamoru had come and gone. He had stayed long enough to ask if Kagome had come out or contacted him at all, and to learn that the demon lord's foul mood had declined further. The monk had been obviously hesitant to interrupt his stewing, and a small part of Sesshoumaru couldn't blame him. A larger, less generous part of him had no trouble.
The monk had offered him some food. He had succinctly rejected it. He now wondered if he hadn't been too hasty. Surely, that insufferable woman was going to need some form of nourishment when she decided she had wasted enough of his time. It wouldn't do to have her starving herself—humans were dependant on regular meals for their continued survival. And as annoying as he found her, Sesshoumaru needed the miko to survive long enough to purify the hell out of the bastard he had been fighting for the past eight years. What she did to herself after that was of no concern to him.
He opened his eyes and stared sightlessly out into the night. The moon was obscured by clouds tonight. Just one more thing to aggravate him. And he asked himself, for the first time in many years, just what it was the gods wanted of him. What was the purpose of this trial he was being put through?
He didn't have a clue as to what the answer could be, and it bothered him. The last time he'd been this lost had—
Sesshoumaru stiffened and abruptly ended the thought. No good would come of that particular avenue of pondering this night. Particularly since it had relevance to the woman who held him here, against his will. He sighed and rubbed his temple. There were moments when being inu youkai were most inconvenient.
"Damnedable honor," he muttered. He became annoyed with himself when he realized he was talking to no one. Gods above, was he catching that messy human's uncouth habits?
He sighed, folded his arms into his sleeves and engaged his mind in planning a new strategy against his bastard enemy involving the miko. That lasted all of two seconds.
He was feeling restless, was unable to concentrate. It irked him, and he silently blamed the miko. Whether or not it was truly any fault of hers didn't matter at the moment. He figured it might as well be, since they had just wasted all this time. Toutousai would have been done with her sword by now, and perhaps with her armor. They could have continued on their way west. They could have progressed farther along in her kenjutsu.
He was suddenly aware of another presence, and he lifted his head and sniffed. And sighed to himself when he recognized the monk.
"Hell," he muttered. Wasn't it enough that he had been in continued contact with these people for the last four days? Must he suffer their company at night as well?
"Sesshoumaru-sama," Mamoru said quietly, bowing.
Sesshoumaru inclined his head but remained stubbornly silent.
The monk watched him for several seconds, then smiled thinly, without humor.
"Please bring Kagome-sama to my sister's hut when she comes out, Sesshoumaru-sama. She will be needing food."
Sesshoumaru nodded, and watched the monk leave, then leaned his head against the shrine wall and shut his eyes. He didn't sleep, not after the nap he'd had during the day. He still had no idea why he'd slept so well. These days, he didn't sleep unless exhaustion demanded it of him. Not that that had been any different than before he'd become embroiled in this war. It was just easier to accomplish now. Worry and constant alert had a way of wearing at one's reserves.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
For the first time in ten years, Kagome meditated.
It had been effortless in this dark little building, with incense hanging thickly in the atmosphere, where the air was uncomfortably warm and heavy.
And when she opened her eyes and looked at the table where the two little candles for her friends that had finally flickered out hours ago sat, cold, she felt a measure of peace that had been missing from her life since the day she had fallen into Sengoku Jidai. She had not stumbled upon any great truths locked away from the world. She had simply realized that she needed to take control and walk forward.
She unfolded her legs and pushed herself up to stand, only to feel the room spin. She hit the floor and shut her eyes, suddenly aware of her pounding head and shaking body. Uh-oh. She groaned—so much for walking forward.
Sesshoumaru heard the miko crash into the floor and raised an eyebrow.
What in the seven hells was the mad woman doing now? He heard her groan and despite himself, felt a little flicker of alarm. Shit. She hadn't gotten sick again, had she?
She probably would, just to spite me, he thought to himself as he rose and went to the doors. The monk had told him to let the miko come out on her own accord. Well, from the sound of it, she was going to be needing some help.
He opened the doors and was immediately assaulted by the too-warm air saturated with the scent of incense. He stepped out of the way, nose going crazy. He gritted his teeth, silently cursed his lineage once more, then forced himself to step inside the shrine.
He saw her immediately. She was curled up in a ball on her side, hands cradling her head.
"Miko?" he asked, walking to her.
She groaned. "I feel like shit," she said.
His lips twitched. Not quite what he was expecting, given that she had just spent the better part of two days in a shrine, but definitely a Kagome thing to say.
"Smell like it too," he drawled.
She slowly moved her head to look up at him. Her face was pale and there were bruises under her eyes. She looked like a ghost. A ghost with red-rimmed, blood-shot eyes. But she was glaring up at him. It was a truly priceless moment, to say the least.
"I hate you."
"I know."
She sighed. Inwardly, he smirked. And wondered when the exchange had become a game.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
Damned if he didn't have to carry her back to the taijiya village.
Sesshoumaru had resigned himself to his fate when, upon tugging the miko upright, she had stumbled back against him and held on for dear life. The woman was forever touching him or otherwise assaulting his person. It was most disconcerting, to say the least.
"What now?" he asked wearily.
"I'm sorry," she said, sounding truly contrite. A first, that. "I'm just really, really dizzy."
"I noticed," he remarked, grabbing her arm before she pitched forward with his kimono firmly clenched in one little fist.
She groaned. "This sucks," she whined.
"Miko…shut up."
He picked her up and ducked out of the shrine.
"Close the doors!" she blurted in a panic, her grip on his kimono tightening.
He sent her an icy glare. She fixed him with sad, pleading eyes. His chest tightened at the expression, the feeling unwelcome and astonishing.
"What are you doing?" he asked, even though he knew exactly what she was doing—she was watching him with what Rin had called "puppy eyes." His chest tightened further.
"Sesshoumaru, please close the doors. It's a shrine."
He looked away from her, ruthlessly annihilated the ache that rose in him. Gods above, even half a century later this malady cursed him?
"If I shut the doors will you quit that idiotic staring?" he asked from behind gritted teeth.
She nodded. He sighed inwardly. Outwardly, he never changed expression. He used one hand to shut the shrine doors, then turned and began toward the village. It was late afternoon, and most of the taijiya were either back at the community dojo or off in their fields, tending to whatever it was they grew to sustain themselves.
The miko leaned against him. He stiffened; he had allowed her that when she had been emotionally distraught because there was little chance she would have been able to understand his command to let go of him. But, from what he could sense of her, she was quite all right now.
"Sesshoumaru?" she asked when he would have ordered her to stop abusing his charity or risk ending up on the ground.
He bit back a growl of frustration. "What is it Miko?" he returned, letting some of his bad temper leak into his voice in the hopes that it would dissuade her.
The gods weren't so kind:
"Arigatou."
He stopped, stared straight ahead, puzzled.
"For what?" he asked finally, voice emotionless.
"For staying. I know I'm a pain and I know you don't like me, and I don't really like you either a lot of the time, but…just…arigatou."
He stood quietly for a long time, never looking down at her. She never moved against him, never tried to bring her head up to look at him.
"You're welcome." he said, voice flat. After a pause, he began walking again. They didn't speak again until they reached the village.
Mika took charge of Kagome, fussing over her. Sesshoumaru sat in a corner and watched the interaction in silence. Humans were curious creatures. And even all these years later, he found them as bizarre and perplexing as ever.
The miko gratefully consumed a bowl of soup and smiled absently every now and again while the old woman chattered on. Sesshoumaru found her cheerfulness annoying, but he hid his displeasure and tuned her out.
Kagome sighed, glad to breathe in air not thick with incense. She smelled of the stuff, but at least it wasn't hanging in the air around her anymore, pressing her lungs uncomfortably. She had almost vomited when Sesshoumaru had carried her outside, her system shocked, completely thrown off, by the sudden light, scentless quality of the air. She had been grateful to the demon for carrying her to the village, too, since her walking there was out of the question.
She eyed him. He was seated in a corner, eyes closed and head leaned back. The late afternoon light threw shadows over his form. It fit him. The man was an enigma. He obviously loathed every second he spent anywhere near her, but he stayed, tortured himself.
In truth, she had been astonished to hear his voice. She vaguely remembered begging him to stay—and winced at the memory, embarrassed to have acted so helpless in front of him—and his agreement that he would, but she hadn't expected him to. She was oddly happy that he had. It was a weird brand of comfort, knowing that he hadn't left her there alone, even though he hadn't exactly been sitting right beside her. It was enough to know that he had waited for her.
He wasn't her first choice for company. Hell, he wasn't even her last choice—that would have to be Naraku, or Kikyou. But he was all she had, and she was grateful that Fate had allotted her that.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
They were back at Toutousai's forge by night fall.
Sesshoumaru had found the miko changed in some manner, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It bothered him intensely. She had been oddly thoughtful on her way up the mountain, not at all interested in annoying him with ridiculous conversation.
They were nearly there when she stopped and fixed him with serious eyes. He stopped as well and waited for her to speak.
"What are my chances?"
He watched her, stunned by the question. "What chances are you referring to?" he asked.
"My chances against the youkai."
A pause.
"As you are now, I wouldn't be surprised if you were killed upon meeting the bastard in battle."
She nodded. "I need some major practice, huh?"
"To start."
Again, she nodded. Then, she sent him a wide grin that threw him off.
"But, if Ojii-san's not talking shit, I'm going to have a very cool katana."
"Having the katana is only useful if you know how to wield it," Sesshoumaru reminded her.
The grin widened. "That's where you come in." she returned.
"Indeed."
Toutousai's face brightened when he saw Kagome breeze into the cave.
"Ah! Kagome!" he said cheerfully. He winced when he saw Sesshoumaru's dark expression.
"Hi Ojii-san," Kagome blithely returned. "Finished my katana?"
The old demon blinked his bulbous eyes once, then twice, as he stared at the young woman before him. He risked a glance at the demon lord and found that Sesshoumaru was settling down against the wall. All in all, he seemed very unconcerned or otherwise unimpressed with Kagome's miraculous recovery.
"Eh, not quite," Toutousai said, scratching his head. "The blood, you see."
The smile on Kagome's pale, sleep-deprived face froze.
"Blood?" she asked as she slowly began backing away.
"Oh let's not start that again, Kagome," Toutousai begged wearily.
"I just don't see why you need my BLOOD!" she wailed. "Couldn't you just yank out a tooth, like you did to Inuyasha?"
"And what would I do with a human tooth?" the swordsmith demanded irritably, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her to his work table.
"Ah, but it wouldn't be a regular human tooth—it'd be a miko's tooth!" Kagome pointed out, trying to break the old man's hold.
"And it might purify me like that katana handle tried to do to Sesshoumaru."
She tugged harder.
"I doubt a tooth could purify you, Ojii-san."
"Well, you're the one who brought it up."
"I did not!"
"I certainly didn't."
Sesshoumaru rolled his eyes and continued looking out at the world beyond Toutousai's cave. Night had fallen in shades of deep blue, and the moon would be rising in a few hours time. Something crashed behind him. It was loud enough to move him to look over.
The miko had gotten away from Toutousai; she was currently scrambling his way. She nimbly leapt over his lap, touched down, whirled around and threw herself next to him. Sesshoumaru glared at her. She completely ignored him and was in the process of squeezing in behind him when Toutousai, hammer in tow, reached him. Sesshoumaru sighed.
I'm surrounded by fools, he thought to himself as he fixed the swordsmith with a withering glare.
"Touch me and die, old man," Sesshoumaru said, voice frigid with the promise of pain.
Toutousai winced and backed away.
"Ha!" Kagome peeked out from behind the demon lord, having succeeded in her endeavor, and stuck her tongue out at the swordsmith.
Sesshoumaru gave her his full weight, which served to dampen some of her enthusiasm, as he'd hoped. He didn't bother to look at her when he said,
"Quiet wench."
Kagome contemplated whacking him, then decided he'd probably just squish her to death. She settled for sullenly glaring at the back of his head, since that was safer, if more childish.
"Sesshoumaru, if you would consider assisting me, this would go a lot faster," Toutousai said.
Both the miko and the demon lord seemed to pause and consider him. Encouraged, the old demon said,
"If you would just hold Kagome and make sure she doesn't move—"
"WHAT!" Kagome exploded. "NO! I don't want to be held down! You can't make me!"
She should have just submitted quietly instead of issuing the equivalent of a challenge in front of two demons.
Less than ten minutes later, Kagome found herself pressing against Sesshoumaru's chest with her back to no avail, one of his arms pinning her left arm to her side and the rest of her to him. She didn't even care that she was in the demon's lap. All of her horrified attention was centered on the HUGE knife Toutousai had picked up.
"Oh please don't cut me with that!" she begged, trying to jerk her right hand out of Sesshoumaru's grip. Again, to no avail.
"It won't hurt at all," Toutousai assured her as he sat down at his work table, where Sesshoumaru and Kagome were already situated. The still disabled miko's sword, now with a new blade resting next to the repaired handle, lay silently on the work table.
"Everyone always says that and they're always lying!" she wailed, now yanking at the solid arm banded around her, anchoring her in the demon lord's lap.
"Stop that obnoxious complaining," Sesshoumaru snapped.
"You wouldn't be happy either if someone was trying to take your blood!" she yelled at him.
"He's not taking all of it you baka, now shut up and stop struggling."
Kagome flinched in his grasp when Toutousai grabbed her hand. He felt the pull of her wrist muscles under his hold when she immediately balled the hand into a tight fist. He could understand being wary of trusting Toutousai with a knife, but he was confused by her response. It was too much. The sharp, ugly scent of her fear made him more uneasy than his proximity to her.
"Kagome," Toutousai said in exasperation.
Sesshoumaru pressed his thumb against the soft underside of her wrist, careful to keep his claw from tearing into the tender skin, and forced her hand open. Toutousai immediately spread her hand, palm up, on the table top and held down her fingers. Sesshoumaru adjusted his grip on her wrist accordingly.
Her fear spiked, and the scent of it grew even more bitter. She pushed back against him even harder and turned her face away, eyes screwed shut, when Toutousai grabbed his knife. Sesshoumaru watched her profile in troubled curiosity. She screamed when the knife tore her palm open.
The coppery tang of blood hit his nose a second later, along with the salty scent of tears. They were slipping out from between the miko's tightly shut eyelids. She went limp in his grasp; he loosened his grip correspondingly, knowing by her gasping breaths that she hadn't fainted but that she was close to it. Her heart was going so fast he couldn't distinguish between the ending of one beat and the beginning of another, and he could actually hear her blood roaring through her veins. It was a little scary to be holding someone who was having such a violent reaction to a simple cut. He hoped humans couldn't die of this. It would set him back quite a bit, now that he had half his plan in motion.
He watched from over her head as Toutousai grabbed her hand and lifted it off the table, careful to keep the blood that was pooling in her palm from dripping onto the table top. Sesshoumaru let go of her wrist, letting his hand drop onto his knee. The swordsmith then picked up the sword handle and brought it up to the miko's violently shaking hand. He tilted her palm and the blood spattered over the handle. Toutousai nodded, then set the handle aside. He next took up the blade and placed the blunt edge against the miko's palm. Apparently, the old man hit the wound he'd opened, because Kagome jerked violently. Sesshoumaru brought up his other hand and placed it firmly over her collarbone, his thumb and first finger on either side of her neck. He leaned her back up against him and Toutousai jerked his head in thanks. The taiyoukai didn't reply. He felt the manic pounding of her pulse, brushed his first finger up the side of her neck until it was right over the throbbing.
Fragile things, these humans, he mused silently, watching as Toutousai closed the miko's hand, pressed the blade into her palm and quickly drew the shining steel down, from tip to end, the entire blade leaving her grasp coated in her blood. She cried out again, pressing back against him. And again, Sesshoumaru let her, mostly because there was little he could do to stop her that wouldn't interfere with the process going on before him.
"Hold her wrist," Toutousai said, handing her wrist back to the demon lord, who removed his hand from her chest and gripped the appendage offered him.
Kagome sagged against him, head lolling against his chest. She sniffled loudly; Sesshoumaru tried to ignore the scent of her blood. Once he'd gotten past the regular, coppery scent, he'd detected an underlying sweetness to the smell that was absent from other humans' blood. He frowned, wondering why he hadn't ever noticed it before. After all, he'd opened a wound in her neck, and he'd been around her when that vile miko had treated her. And then, by the river later, he'd had to clean up the wound before sealing it, and it had begun bleeding again. It was strange. He had to literally order himself not to lift her hand to his face so that he could investigate this startling little discovery.
Toutousai expertly put the sword together and managed to keep from getting any of the miko's blood on his fingers. Sesshoumaru raised an eyebrow; just how much practice had this old fool had with this kind of thing, anyway? The swordsmith laid the sword down, then looked up at Sesshoumaru.
"Place her hand over the handle, Sesshoumaru."
His eyebrow climbed higher. "You don't mean to re-animate the thing now, do you?"
Toutousai raised his own eyebrow in haughty imitation.
"I certainly do—the girl's ki is the only thing that will seal the blood." He seemed to remember something. "But first…."
He reached around behind himself and produced a scabbard. He slid the sword into it with a sharp, satisfying click, then sat back with a nod.
"Now place her hand over the handle."
Sesshoumaru mentally shrugged, leaned forward slightly and placed the miko's limp hand firmly over the handle. She stiffened in his lap.
"No," she whispered, her voice soft with pain.
He curled his hand over hers and made her take hold of the handle, and he felt the blood ooze out from between her fingers.
Her ki flared to life and he jerked his hand away, to rest over her arm and keep her there, just in case. He needn't have bothered: her hand stayed wrapped around the handle, and her ki glowed bright white, then shot from her hand all the way up to the tip of the scabbard and back again. He felt the sword come back to life, felt its ki unfurl around Kagome's hand and then draw back into the sword. It was an extension of her power, he realized. The sword had the ability to do what she did with her hands. It was a remarkable feat…even if it made his youki nervous.
She suddenly let go of the sword and it clattered to the table top. It was still glowing, this time in pink. Kagome sank into the curve of his body. Toutousai watched the sword, smiling widely in satisfaction. Even Sesshoumaru was impressed with the fruits of the swordsmith's efforts. Not that he'd ever admit it, of course.
"And THAT," Toutousai said to no one in particular, "is how one crafts a miko's katana."
