Chapter 19
The dew clung to his pelt much like sweat after a hard battle might. He was weary; a curious thing to admit to himself considering how rare a feeling it was. His exhaustion could be attributed in part to the fact that he had, admittedly, flown nonstop for a day and a half; something he normally preferred not to do unless the situation warranted it. Logic told him that this situation certainly did not fall into the "worth flying nonstop" category, but emotions unsurfaced firmly told him otherwise. And for once, irrational as he may feel about it, he was perfectly content to give in to the latter.
And so, he had flown.
And now he was back at the gates of his home; darkness had fallen again and the once-full moon peered down at him from behind a thin net of invisible clouds. His eyes snaked their way hastily away from the celestial body perched above him - the last thing he needed was another thing to remind him.
Of her.
The sky was as dark as those silk-like strands of hair he had once pressed against his lips; the moon as breathtakingly alluring as those pearlescent eyes of hers; the barely-there wind slipping past his face as soft a presence as her fingertips when they had once brushed over his cheek.
He winced, shook his head, and continued to move on in the darkness of the night.
And yet . . .
For some reason that he couldn't quite fathom, she refused to leave his mind. How was that fair? How was it fair for her to ensnare him, to trick him into seeing her one way, to earn his trust and - maybe - his interest, only for her to reveal herself as the reason behind Tessaiga and Tenseiga's creation? It wasn't fair. There was simply no other conclusion for him to draw.
He wished that he could talk to his father right now.
And what was that whole excuse about being unable to remember why? How hard is it to remember, at least, what went through your mind when you decided to permanently change someone's destiny? A small voice in the back of his head nagged him that there were many things he couldn't even remember, memories spanning years, and yet that stubborn part of him didn't want to listen. He had left, and that was that. He had left her there. He had made a choice in the moment - to turn away, because somehow facing her was worse - and for all his foolish pride he couldn't set his anger aside long enough to listen. And so he would not go back. He'd made a fool of himself, yes, but hadn't she done the same when she cursed Toga all those centuries ago?
Sesshomaru sighed.
He'd made his way towards the innermost section of the shiro, and stopped dead in his tracks when the faintest trace of ginger and grapefruit accosted his sharp senses. She wasn't there, of course; it was merely the old trace of her scent that lingered in her temporary quarters, which he'd just now unwittingly passed. Sesshomaru noticed a curious twinge inside of himself as resurfaced irritation forced him to continue on his way without batting an eye - for whatever reason, his heart felt . . . heavy. It ached in a way it had not before and he discovered immediately that he wished to banish the feeling away. It lingered long after he rounded the corner and slipped into a new hallway and each step made him clench his jaw more. His throat felt unbearably tight all of the sudden. Sesshomaru did not like having complete control and awareness, especially in regards to his own person. He hated how easily she had unraveled him.
The daiyoukai stopped, lifted his head, and bared his teeth to the moon.
He refused to let a woman undo him so completely.
It took a moment of concentration, but the ache in his chest ebbed slowly away until he felt almost better than before. His mind cleared, and his shoulders relaxed, and for the first time since that first kiss had set him ablaze he felt once more that he was the true master of his mind, body, and soul. The corner of the inu's lip twitched as he resumed his way towards Rin's room. Sesshomaru was pleased with how easily he could enforce his will on a situation. Not even this would be enough to break his character.
He decided, as his footsteps tapped lightly and the moonlight flickered over his skin, that he would not return to her side. He advised her against watching the skies, and so he too must refrain from scanning the horizon. He was the Western Lord, after all. He'd been foolish to stray from his post for so long. What a fool he had been indeed.
And yet . . .
Yet . . .
. . . When he entered Rin's room and caught sight of his own reflection, there was a wetness in his eyes that he had not noticed before.
How, pray tell, does one break bad news to the most fearsome daiyoukai in Japan? And how, pray tell, was she to admit that it had happened under her watch?
The Lady of the West sighed. Her son was back alright; the attendant she'd posted near Rin's room had alerted her the very minute Sesshomaru was seen approaching that end of the shiro. Now all she had to do was wait for him to approach her and ask of Rin's whereabouts.
The near-monotonous drone of her attendant's continued speech pulled Kimi's focus back front and center. " . . . alone."
"Alone?" Kimi repeated dully, her eyes trained on the sliding doors that currently blocked her vision of the outside.
"Yes, Kimi-sama. Should I see to it that Megumi-san's room is cleared out for the next guest?"
Now that captured Kimi's attention. So dear Megumi had not returned with Sesshomaru? What a curious development indeed. Perhaps something had happened that even she had not foreseen; there was little need to ponder the matter on her own though, considering the man of the hour would be appearing here shortly. "Not yet, thank you. You are dismissed."
"Hai, Kimi-sama."
Kimi's nose detected her visitor before her eyes did; his sturdy scent of the forest after rain and a faint ginger note clinging to him were testimonies to the fact that Megumi did not return, yes, but it has not been long since they parted. The hint of her scent mingled with his was stronger than it was the last time she had seen the Western Lord, and Kimi smirked knowingly. It seems the pair had grown closer in her absence. Perhaps there was no need to worry at all.
The doors parted and in their place stood her son; proud, as ever, but a dark storm cloud was brewing behind his eyes. It twisted and churned with eddies of pain and angst, of conflict and fury. As he approached without a word and the attendant bowed and left, the tiniest note of salt rising to her senses made Kimi start with shock.
Sesshomaru . . . had cried?
Her Sesshomaru, Lord of the Western Lands, most powerful daiyoukai, the emotionally distant man himself, had . . . shed tears?
Forget her earlier amusement; something was clearly wrong.
"Kimi," Sesshomaru greeted, but his voice sounded too tight and thick for their typical greeting.
So the Western Lady skipped it. "Tell me, Sesshomaru."
And to her surprise, he did.
Sesshomaru's tale mixed pleasant memories with painful ones - and as it went on, the hollow feeling in Kimi's body grew bigger. He had started out sounding so bitter; like talking of the journey brought him nothing but pain. But gradually it had shifted; his voice carried a light he could not deny himself as he told his mother of the winding conversations he and Megumi had shared on the road. Even as his brows knitted in confusion towards the way his own voice must sound, Kimi knew without a doubt that deny himself as he might, Sesshomaru's heart was clawing its way out into the open at the mention of Megumi's name. Perhaps, she mulled silently as Sesshomaru told her of their time in the village, this fragile openness is precisely why he sounded so pained.
She listened on.
Kimi was pleased to hear that they had made it to the cave just as they planned, and that Megumi was able to start the ritual just as she hoped. The mention of some mysterious youkai crashing the ritual and endangering Megumi had both daiyoukai squinting; this kind of development never meant well. Someone knew where they were headed and had had sense enough to outwit the son of the Inu no Taisho alone. Not to mention the deliberate attack on Megumi - clearly there was a threat out there that did not want Megumi's powers to return.
But who?
And were they connected to Rin's current condition - or worse, her disappearance?
Kimi hated fighting blind.
The Western Lady found herself smiling and relaxing upon hearing that Sesshomaru had taken Megumi to Inuyasha's village to be healed. This, at least, explained why Megumi had not returned with the daiyoukai. A speedy return was preferred of course but Kimi could understand Sesshomaru's hesitation to move an injured person-
"She healed fine, and upon waking, it was discussed between Inuyasha's woman and the village miko that an attempt to unseal her sight would be made."
Kimi's ears twitched. So . . . Megumi was fine then? Or - kami forbid - had the attempt to remove the seal backfired?
Almost as if he could sense where her thoughts were leading her, Sesshomaru sneered faintly. "The seal was removed, though it took more time than I felt necessary."
"Then Megumi is well? And her sight has been restored to her person?"
"She is well enough."
Kimi's eyes narrowed fractionally. "Then why is she not with you? I was under the impression that she would return to heal Rin."
So then . . . had she taken her new sight and vanished? Was it possible that Megumi had changed so drastically in the centuries past that she was capable of such trickery? Kimi hastily banished the thought. Megumi was not the kind of person capable of wickedness so selfish.
Sesshomaru bristled. "I am not Megumi's keeper. She may do as she pleases." The storms in her son's eyes raged again. The air between them felt tense with pain. There was more, she knew, to this story that he had not yet told her. She was his mother after all; he could not hide these feelings from her for all the restraint in the world.
"Tell me, Sesshomaru."
Her son suddenly appeared motionless; his expression almost dazed as his mind returned to relive whatever memories he was hiding. Kimi could not help the softening of her eyes as she watched her only son adapt instinctual body language in response to his emotions. Watching her beloved pup surrender himself to a pain so deep he could not move made Kimi's heart, tucked far away inside of her, cry out to comfort him.
Kimi's clawed hand was just reaching out to him when the sound of his voice, hard and level, stopped its progression. "She opened her eyes, placed her lips against mine, and I kissed her back."
The room felt lifeless in the silence that enveloped them. Kimi's mouth fell agape and her hand hung suspended in the space between them. Sesshomaru watched her with his alarmingly even, measured stare. How was he this composed? Did he not see what he had awakened in himself? In Megumi, even?
Kimi hadn't wanted to kiss Toga until well after their mating had been decided for them, and here her son was . . . she shook her head. If the memory elicited this much pain, she doubted he would want to dwell on what this meant for him and his feelings. Kimi watched as Sesshomaru's icy wall flickered for another second; the tiniest twitch of his lip, like even as he remembered where they had been once he found himself fighting the urge to smile. Something inside of him was warming at the memory, and something else was attempting to suppress it.
"She told me then that she had twisted Toga's fate."
Kimi's heart froze.
"'When his time is near, Toga of the Western Lands will rip two fangs from his mouth and forge twin swords, one for each child - the now and future one - so they will not carry spite for their sire beyond the grave. Through these blades, may his will be conveyed, and may his pack listen.' That is what she commanded of him." Sesshomaru's eyes flickered darkly again; and Kimi knew why. Sesshomaru felt robbed of the only thing that had tied him to the father whose shadow he was strangled under. He felt robbed of the one thing that had given him peace after Izayoi; after Inuyasha; after death.
Kimi knew, because she felt robbed too.
For countless years she had nursed her bitterness after Toga's demise. How very like him to leave all whom he loved gifts in his absence; a sword for his firstborn, a better sword for his bastard child, his very life for his mistress. How very like him to leave his first wife out of the whole mess - how very like him to admit with his dying breath that it had never been love between them.
How very like him; and yet, according to Megumi; how very unlike him.
Had it really been all of her own devices? Kimi pondered the words Sesshomaru had told her over in her head as her son's brows furrowed in silent frustration. For daiyoukai, there is nothing more infuriating than one's own helplessness. How lost Sesshomaru must feel right now.
"How did she know of Inuyasha?" Kimi muttered lowly. She hadn't meant to pose the question out loud, much less at a volume that the only other youkai in the room could hear, but Sesshomaru's ears twitched slightly regardless. His mouth opened and his face betrayed his aggravation at the question, but then his eyes widened fractionally and for the first time since he entered her room Sesshomaru really looked at her.
"How indeed," he murmured. Kimi could practically see the wheels in his head shaking off their haze and beginning to turn.
"Your relationship with Toga was vastly changed after she vanished, not before." At the sound of her voice, Sesshomaru nodded lightly. He understood what she was saying - there was no need for an object to help mend their relationship, if their relationship did not yet need mending. Megumi had told Kimi once many centuries ago that she could not see into the future; that was the burden of the kami and their oracles alone.
So then . . .
Sesshomaru seemed to reach the same conclusion that she did at the same moment. "I've been a fool," he cursed, and for once Kimi agreed.
"Where is she now, Sesshomaru?"
"She remains where I left her." Sesshomaru looked almost ashamed as he uttered the next part. "I told her not to wait for me."
Kimi sighed softly. What was done had time to be fixed; her son could apologize, and let Megumi explain, and this time without running away. All would be well.
Well . . . not everything.
"This, for now, can wait." Judging from his expression that was not what the Western Lord expected to hear from her. "Rin, I'm afraid, comes first."
Kimi felt the threatening presence of Sesshomaru's youki flare around the room. He could tell that when Kimi declared Rin a priority, she did not mean that healing Rin was more important.
The growl was laced heavily in his voice as Sesshomaru stood, scowling, and demanded to know what had happened in his absence.
Kimi turned gracefully and motioned with the hand once extended to comfort her son towards the room's side where another door was. "You may enter, Jaken." The door slid open and in waddled the little toad youkai, his expression determined and respectful. His lord had returned, but he did not have good news to greet him with.
Sesshomaru's brow raised in veiled curiosity, and Kimi answered him before he could speak.
"It seems, Sesshomaru, that we have been watched for a long, long time."
Three days.
Had she really been separated from Sesshomaru for three days now? The time seemed to have flown so far away from her. Much like he did when he disappeared into the sunset, she thought. How ironic. His absence felt almost like a physical discomfort; something that bothered and unnerved her constantly. Megumi wished ever-so-fervently that she could banish the uncomfortable sensation from her person. She didn't like feeling incomplete.
Incomplete, like her memories.
She couldn't stop kicking herself over that. But what was she supposed to do? Keep that secret forever, and live with the guilt? There was no guarantee that she'd ever get her memories back. There was no promise that should they return, what they contained would help her case. And so she had made a choice. It was freeing, but it hurt like a bitch. Perhaps if she had controlled herself better and hadn't kissed Sesshomaru before she broke the news, then perhaps she wouldn't feel so bad right now.
But he had kissed her back; it wasn't completely her fault.
Megumi stopped dead in her tracks.
If he had kissed her back . . . didn't that mean . . .
Her throat tightened and she immediately shut down all thoughts she had in that direction. Thinking about those possibilities was a luxury reserved for people who could afford to entertain them. And seeing as she was effectively alone, she had no right to think about those things anymore. Which was fine. For now, she would think of nothing but returning the kindness of the Western shiro by fulfilling her end of the agreement. Megumi grit her teeth in frustration. How simple things could have been. How safe, and full of life, and full of family.
She had not even said goodbye to Kimi, for the second time.
Megumi's heart broke at the thought, but her feet carried her on.
It wasn't long after the sun peaked in the sky that Megumi found the spot that Inuyasha had instructed her towards; a natural clearing completely void of mankind's presence. Here, Megumi would be free to release as much power as she wished without concern for human witnesses. Megumi's functioning eyes settled on a spot of the forest floor that looked relatively comfy, and silently lowered herself into her meditative pose and gently tented her fingertips in her lap. The pose felt secure and comfortable, almost as if she had been born into this pose from the start. Here, she found her breath and evened it, listening to the trill of the birds and the hush of the leaves brushing against the sky.
Megumi let herself relax entirely as her thoughts shifted away from Sesshomaru and towards her mission. She would not think of him again for some time.
Megumi breathed, and bid the Twin Dragon of Timidity's spirit to rise within her. She felt it course in her skin, thrum against her pupils and wrap around her soul.
"Show me the Twin Dragon of Temperament," she commanded, and Timidity obeyed.
Megumi's pearlescent eyes flashed deep crimson, and suddenly she was looking at the world through an unfamiliar lens. All around her were steep mountainous features - jagged rocks, hardened trees, and a faint layer of white powder. She looked down and found herself garbed in alien clothes, in an alien body, with an alien hand gripping a coarse rope. The crimson eyes she commanded followed the length of rope until Megumi could see what it connected to:
Rin, flushed in the face from exhaustion and cold, tears frozen on her cheeks and wrists dragged along by the binding rope Temperament's owner commanded.
Megumi gasped with her own voice as her concentration snapped and the clairvoyance faded. She was back in the forest, alone. Rin was nowhere near her, but that hardly mattered. She had seen enough of the scenery to know exactly where she needed to go. Megumi hadn't been expecting to see Rin there, though, and that definitely complicated things. The young ningen woman was clearly in danger and it was up to Megumi now to rescue her and put an end to this whole mess.
Which meant that she no longer had the luxury of taking her time. What fortune indeed to have waited until she was all the way out here to summon her powers. Here, she would be able to transform.
Many many centuries ago, when she had been peering over the words of the long deceased in her temple days, young Megumi had discovered a curious parallel between herself and the likes of the youkai. Where youkai were born in demonic form and adapted humanoid ones upon obtaining enough power (and then of course ascended into the ranks of daiyoukai), the incarnations of the Twin Dragons obtained their draconic form once they had obtained power sufficient enough to sustain it. Centuries after she read those words, the duress of the mutiny and extended captivity was enough to awaken her dormant form. She hadn't had many chances - or reasons, really - to morph into the ancient beast since.
Now, she figured, she had more than enough reason to.
And so, she transformed.
Katsumi bit back a snarl. How bold of the Twin Dragon of Timidity to look directly through her eyes! At least Katsumi had enough decency to watch her enemy's movements through other methods. Behind her, the Western Lord's ward whimpered. The cold winds of the mountain shiro must be freezing to someone not accustomed to it, but Katsumi hardly cared. She didn't go through the trouble of kidnapping the girl to comfort her, that's for sure. If anything it was her discomfort that Katsumi fed off of the most.
"We've been found," Katsumi sing-sang, making sure to glance back at her captive to gauge her reaction. Just as she expected Rin perked up with foolishly hopeful naivety. Really; it was almost too easy to break this woman. Katsumi sneered and Rin's expression suddenly looked a lot less eager. "That means we're going to have to walk faster. We wouldn't want our guest to arrive before us, now would we?" With that, she gave a harsh tug on the rope and Rin stumbled fast to keep up. It would have been easier to bend the wimpy thing to her will and have her march just as she had before, but really this was more fun.
The fight ahead of her, however, was guaranteed to be more entertaining than this.
And so, she marched on.
Hello again, and Happy Holidays! Here's a little present to all my lovely readers. You've all been so patient and I can't thank you enough for your continued support of my story! Much love to each and every one of you; your enthusiasm for this story is really what motivates me the most! We're nearing the conclusion and I'm so excited to share it all with you! I wish you all a lovely end to a not-so-lovely year.
Thank you for your continued support!
