Chapter 24

Shimizu Hamasaki propped a firm hand against her hip and sighed. Not even Nakano's mutiny had trashed her precious ship to such an extensive degree. Her precious Mikazuki still sailed, kept above the waves by sheer force of will. Shimizu's crew was damn lucky that they had been coasting so close to a cloister of southern islands when a piece of the heavens themselves descended on their upper deck, colliding first with the bowsprit before skidding to a bone-jostling stop against the mainmast. The impact splintered it nearly in half. Shimizu saw the whole thing happen from where she had been standing at the stern, and a good thing for it too, because she was certain that had she been elsewhere her crew would have seen to it that the heavenly threat was disposed of immediately.

The heavenly threat, of course, was none other than her dear Megumi Madarame. Meg.

Shimizu hadn't been shocked in the slightest to see the state in which her First Mate had returned to her. Megumi had the unrivaled pride of a daiyoukai; ceaseless in its hold on her person. Megumi would not back down, would not concede, and for all intents and purposes seemed hell-bent on taking her honor with her to the grave. Which, Shimizu noted with grim honesty, Megumi was probably going to make her way towards soon. Whatever she had deemed worth getting that fucked up over was seconds away from doing her in for good.

But that was the life of a demon. Even someone with an ancient, mysterious draconic nature could not deny that it was her fate to die at the hands of another. Illness, perhaps, if one managed to live long enough to see the utterance of an age of peace. Shimizu snorted at the audacity of her own thoughts. She had lived long enough, flirting the line between being a pirate and a privateer to know that there could be no such thing in this world. Mankind had grown too fond of their gun powders; of their poisons and swords. And demonkind would sooner face the gates of the underworld before agreeing to blunt their teeth and fangs and miasmas.

And so, they would continue to fight. Great battles would ceaselessly ensue, carving new chasms and graves into the earth itself. The kami would continue to pick favorites. Daiyoukai would continue their reign of terror. Monks and priestesses would continue their holy expulsions.

And Shimizu would continue to sail.

Of course, she would prefer to do so with Megumi at her side, but if the girl was so determined to die then who the hell was she to argue?

Shimizu's thoughts became increasingly centered around the Dragon of Timidity's current host. It had not been easy to convince her crew to stand down. They saw a dragon, with milky white orbs and iridescent scales rippling like moonlight over the waves. They saw the blood oozing out from countless gashes; the thick, crimson syrup snaking its way through the grooves and gaps in her scaly armor. They saw the foam curdling out of her mouth, the spittle that dribbled off the ends of her fine teeth. They saw the hollow rise and fall of her serpentine body as she drew in shaky, shallow breaths and let them tumble lifelessly out of her.

They saw a monster on the brink of death. Hell, Shimizu saw it too, and for a moment she wondered if it would have been a mercy to let her sleep easy for once in her life. Shimizu could not shake the thought once it had taken hold of her. But still, she had insisted her crew back away and sheathe their blades. Shimizu had strode towards the body, ignoring the splinters that rained down on her head as the great beast squirmed and writhed against the deck in pain. Shimizu kept a watchful eye out for the loose rigging that had snapped to attention around Megumi's draconic form, twisting and thrashing at random as she flung her marred neck to glance at the starboard side of the ship, and then the port side. What her hungry eyes searched for, Shimizu did not know.

It had been Tsukiya's idea to put her to sleep. In slumber, at least, Megumi could cause no harm–to the crew she had left behind; to Shimizu; to herself. Shimizu had taken the capsule, laden with her personal favorite blend of potent herbs, and made her way past broken sheaves, ropes, and tackle to where Megumi's great head thrashed about in an attempt to wrestle the thick rigging off of herself. Megumi's clouded eyes settled on the face of her beloved captain for only a second, and when they did, her body stilled.

Shimizu had cracked the capsule open against one of her flared nostrils, and Megumi had not awoken since.

Shortly after Megumi had lost consciousness, she had transformed back into the woman Shimizu was so accustomed to seeing. Unfortunately, given the very public nature of her arrival, half the crew witnessed her transformation too. Dark images of Nakano feeding her poisonous lies at the bottom of the ocean danced in Shimizu's head as she watched recognition spread like wildfire in her crew's eyes. Megumi Madarame. Their First Mate. Shimizu and Megumi had worked hard to build up a whole new crew out of nothing; had worked hard to make sure the crew had no idea the extent of power that lurked in Megumi's core. And now, they knew. Shimizu, despite her core of iron, found herself frozen at the scene. Nakano was all she could see when she looked at the people she had sailed with all these years. Dozens of wavering Nakanos, all grinning ear to ear as they loomed above her head.

"I think she's bleeding, Captain."

Tsukiya. It had been Tsukiya's voice that had called Shimizu back from the brink. He was a good sailor, perhaps her favorite after Megumi. Shimizu entertained the thought that should her beloved Megumi ever depart from her side for good, perhaps Tsukiya could take up the mantle of First Mate in her place. It was times like these that reminded her why she had decided to preen the young man for the position.

Even now, as Shimizu stood on the deck alone, as Tsukiya dressed and redressed and rolled and fed and nurtured Megumi as best as he could, Mikazuki's captain found the tension in her shoulders drifting away like seafoam. Tsukiya was their best healer. She would trust no other hands against Megumi's wounds. Not even her own.

It had been five days since Megumi's disastrous entrance. Since then, they had sailed for the nearest port, so that the ship could be repaired as soon as possible. They were lucky that they hadn't encountered any storms on the seas yet, but they would not be lucky forever.

"Captain." Shimizu turned at the sound of Tsukiya's voice. "She's stirring again."

Shimizu followed Tsukiya towards her own chambers, where she had insisted Megumi be laid and attended to.

"How's she holding up?"

Tsukiya sighed. "It's her spine that worries me. All her other wounds have taken easily to my medicines and dressings. I've tried stitching up the larger ones, but the gash along her spine is far too large to be stitched well."

Shimizu grunted as they passed into the room where Megumi lay. She looked just as weak as she had when Shimizu found her chained up in the brig, sick with scurvy and fever. Her skin was just as pale as it had been then, shiny with sweat. Her veins appeared startlingly blue and purple under the swaying light overhead. The dark, sunken circles under her eyes felt almost hypocritical given how many days Megumi had laid unconscious. And she was so, so skinny, as if the bones in her ribcage had opened like a blooming flower to reclaim their place at the edge of her skin. Any longer, and perhaps they would break through that final layer preventing her bones from greeting the outside world.

"I'm worried," Tsukiya whispered. Shimizu raised an eyebrow. "Our ship isn't exactly the cleanest place around." To that, the captain guffawed. "If an infection breaks out against her back, we'll lose her."

Shimizu didn't need to be a skilled healer to know that an infection could start and spread within the span of a breath. On a shallow wound, they were easier to treat. On a limb, even if the wound is cut to the bone, the limb could be sacrificed to save the body. But it was on her back. Shimizu had seen plenty of crushed bodies in the path of her great Mikazuki's wake. She knew that there were certain parts of the body, ningen and youkai alike, that creatures simply could not live without. Heads could not exist without bodies. Bodies could not exist without heads. Skulls and spines; spines and skulls.

Tsukiya, unfortunately, was right.

Every time he brought news of Megumi's development to her ears, Megumi's chance of survival seemed to go with it. First, Tsukiya had told her that Megumi had not been regenerating on her own: that Megumi's powers did not appear to be active. He had assumed she was daiyoukai, and for all intents and purposes, the healing aspects of her power were pretty much the same. But for the first time in her life, the spirit of the Twin Dragon of Timidity was dormant. Shimizu found it increasingly difficult to focus on the knowledge that Megumi was fading before her eyes. How long had she watched over the girl, now? It had been so many centuries, Shimizu was starting to lose count. Or perhaps that was the cost of living as long as Shimizu had.

She was, after all, about as old as the esteemed Toga of the Western Lands would have been, had he not met such a sudden end at the hands of Ryūkotsusei.

Megumi had her secrets, and Shimizu had hers.

Shimizu Hamasaki had not always been a pirate. Once, she was a daiyoukai heiress. Once, she had been the talk of the courts. Once, she had been introduced to the overly egotistical, overly self-assured Great Dog General. Once, she had been considered to be a potential mate for him, because politics demanded reinforced treaties.

Once, and no more.

Shimizu held no anger in her heart when she thought of her past. She had never wanted it, after all; had loathed the life handed to her on a silver platter since the day she had been brought into this world. She liked to imagine sometimes that the kami were watching her, wondering how far from her original purpose she could stray. Japan had been her prison. Japan's waters, however . . .

It was Shimizu's only hope now that perhaps Megumi could find a place for herself like Shimizu had too.

Almost as if she could sense Shimizu's gaze on her, Megumi's eyes twitched where they lay under her lids. Her eyelids flickered like quick flames as they did. She laid a gentle, almost maternal hand over the unconscious girl's forehead. "Sleep, dearest Meg. You will not get rest this good in the afterlife."

Megumi shifted, once, before settling back into her ceaseless slumber.

At the foot of the bed, Tsukiya cleared his throat gently. "Perhaps if we could find a way to siphon off some demonic energy, and give it to her, perhaps she'd start to heal faster."

Shimizu shook her head as she withdrew her hand. She had a sneaking suspicion that whatever Megumi's aura was hell-bent on fixing before her material flesh, it was a hell of a lot more important.

"I'm afraid, Tsukiya, that all we can do is wait. Wait, and watch."

Tsukiya nodded as Shimizu passed him to exit the room. "Let's hope the kami have mercy enough to spare another soul."

Shimizu rolled the word around on her tongue as she returned to her position at the helm. Mercy. Was it mercy, then, to return Megumi's soul? Or mercy to take it?


Storms ravaged the ship. With no main mast, her crew was stretched thin trying to keep Mikazuki afloat. One large wave was all it took to knock Megumi onto the floor. Her blood mixed with the water sloshing against the floorboards. Her wounds had reopened, almost all of them. She had been asleep for six days.


Tsukiya got the bleeding to stop. Stitches were redone; dressings retied. He did not notice the splinter embedded against the tender, raw flesh of Megumi's back. She had been asleep for seven days.


The ship made it to port. Megumi, per the request of Shimizu, was moved on land into a stable room. She had been asleep for eight days.


Megumi's minor wounds scabbed over. Her stitches held fast. She had been asleep for nine days.


Megumi's fever broke. Her skin began to take color again. She had been asleep for ten days.


Tsukiya let the resident healer take over Megumi's case for him while he went to help Shimizu restore the ship to a sailable condition. The healer decided to leave Megumi's back alone, given what Tsukiya told him. She had been asleep for eleven days.


Overnight, she changed. Megumi's skin began to turn pale again. Tsukiya paced, and paced, and paced. She had been asleep for twelve days.


Megumi's skin began to turn red. Long, red streaks spread out from her back. Her breathing became jagged, short, and uneven. She had been asleep for thirteen days.


The infection, just as Tsukiya predicted, took hold. Perhaps it was a dressing left against her skin too long. Perhaps it was the sea salt in the air. Perhaps it was being transferred into a new environment. Perhaps it was the fall she suffered, during the storm eight days ago. She had been asleep for fourteen days.


Megumi's infection spread all the way across the wound against her back. She had been asleep for fifteen days.


Megumi stopped breathing. Shimizu's hands thumped against Megumi's chest. She would trust no one else. Her lips breathed life against Megumi's cold ones. She took the air that Shimizu offered, but her chest sounded hollow and deflated. She had been asleep for sixteen days.


Shimizu could sense it. Megumi's dragon was leaving her. She had been asleep for seventeen days.


She had been asleep for eighteen days. She had been asleep for too long.


Sesshomaru had always prided himself on his ability to quickly and efficiently hunt. Any mortal, he could find. No ningen, no youkai, no creature of the kami was safe. He was ruthless, swift, and determined. And yet, he had struggled to find Rin. He had struggled to find the person who had kidnapped his ward, even. Katsumi Kuramiya. And now, he struggled to find Megumi. It was just as it was before. Fate had dealt him a kindness when the two dragons he had unknowingly searched for appeared in the sky above him. Sesshomaru wondered if that had been a sign from the kami. Perhaps that had been his chance, to undo Megumi's fate. Katsumi's words haunted him. If he had stopped Megumi then and there, perhaps he could have saved her. Sesshomaru had no idea if he was searching for a corpse or not. He had no idea if he would even find that.

He had retraced their steps. He had gone through every village they had ever set foot in; had gone through every forest and cave and river. He had swallowed his stubborn pride and tried Izayoi's homeland. He had tried her moon pool. In desperation, he had tried the place where Toga died. Ryūkotsusei's home, even. Inuyasha's village. The Bone Eater Well. The Western Shiro.

Megumi was gone.

Sesshomaru had nearly dared to give up hope when almost in a stroke of ironic luck, he had remembered Toga's parting story to him. Even now as he attempted to recall the sight he had been made witness to when he pulled Megumi's body out of the collapsed cave, the image of her scars felt seared into his brain. He could not forget the way he had felt when he first laid eyes on them. He could not forget, not even when he had stormed away from Megumi the first time, or when he had ignored her the second. His heart refused to let him forget.

She had been chained, then. Imprisoned. The stories Megumi had supplied him with rushed to his head unbidden. Stories of her childhood. Stories of her time with Toga. Stories of her time with a pirate.

Shimizu Hamasaki.

Sesshomaru's finely tuned killed instinct honed in on that name. Sesshomaru had searched all of Japan, and Megumi had been nowhere in it.

Megumi had been elsewhere.

Sesshomaru almost felt guilty for not having thought of such a possibility sooner. Of course, it stood to reason that Megumi would return to the only person she could trust wholeheartedly. Still, Sesshomaru realized that it was a long shot. There was no guarantee that Megumi had even been conscious enough to choose such a destination in her flight. She could have flown anywhere, really. Could even have attempted to reach her old friend, only to fall short and end up sinking beneath the surface of the sea.

But still, Sesshomaru had to try. It had been eleven days since he had lost her.


Sesshomaru returned to the shiro. He did not say a word to Kimi while he was there. He tracked down Gina; demanded to know where the merchants had gone. Gina told him, and the minute her mouth was closed, Sesshomaru was gone. It had been twelve days since he had lost her.


Sesshomaru spoke only with Daisuke. From him, he gleaned precious information. Some woman. A mutual of Daisuke and Megumi's, apparently. Close to several ports popular with the regular pirates in the area. It had been thirteen days since he had lost her.


Sesshomaru found the woman, just as Daisuke described. She was unwilling to describe at length the typical paths that Shimizu's ship, the Mikazuki, sailed. But she was willing to help him find Megumi. She pointed one long, crooked finger towards the horizon, and Sesshomaru departed. It had been fourteen days since he had lost her.


He scoured the ocean, traveling from port to port. His cloud cast a thin shadow on the ever-churning sea that he soared over. He wondered if Megumi was somewhere down there, claimed by its liquidy depths. It had been fifteen days since he had lost her.


Sesshomaru had to switch to a boat. His cloud could sustain him no longer. The sailors did not trust him, but they trusted that any attempt to take his life would result in a swift end to theirs. It had been sixteen days since he had lost her.


He heard the sailors talking about how a nasty storm eleven days ago had ravaged plenty of ships, forcing them inland for repairs. The sailors wanted to set sail for one of those sites, in hopes of robbing some of the ships that had been reduced to a mere skeleton crew by the angry seas. Sesshomaru demanded to know where the nearest ports would have been, for the parts of the sea most affected by the storms. And which of those ports responded the best to youkai pirates. It had been seventeen days since he had lost her.


Sesshomaru and the sailors set foot on land, in the middle of the night. In the distance, his youkai eyes caught sight of three ships in various states of disrepair silhouetted against the moon. He searched each of them, in the quiet shell of darkness, but found neither Shimizu nor Megumi. It had been eighteen days since he had lost her.


Sesshomaru could lie to himself no longer. He was so, so tired. He had been traveling for nineteen straight days. He ached in places he did not know himself capable of, and he suspected he had the continued use of his demonic cloud to thank for that. How foolish of him to charge all across Japan so rashly. Sesshomaru hunted, ate light, and set out for where the flimsy boat had been docked. The sailors were certainly still wary of him, that much he was certain of, but he had a feeling that they understood his appreciation for the swiftness of their craft. He had paid handsomely to make sure they asked him no questions. Threats were perfectly fine ways to get what you wanted, of course. But it was Rin that had taught him that sometimes a little money for someone's next meal could get you a lot more than just compliance.

The sailors greeted the sight of him with their silent acknowledgment. Going off of the two new chests they had laid down on the deck, Sesshomaru assumed that they had found something worth stealing off of one of the three ships that had docked here after the storm. He kept their eager chatter in the back of his mind as he contemplated where they would go next. There were several options still available to him. He had no idea which one would even reveal to him Shimizu.

And even then, even if he found Shimizu, there was no guarantee that Megumi would be with her.

The dull scent of copper was what pulled him out of his thoughts. It came from one of the chests on the boat, and eyes narrowing, Sesshomaru approached it. He felt the sailors stiffen at his back; clearly, they didn't want him to investigate their stolen plunder, but none of them had the gall to tell him not to. Sesshomaru inspected the wood of the chest farthest from him. It looked just as a normal chest would, he supposed. Strong, unassuming, and locked. Sesshomaru breathed in deeply. Faint, faint copper. Something stuffy. The overpowering scent of salt in the air. Wet wood. Seafood. And there, at the very bottom of the pile of scents, was something else–

–ginger.

Sesshomaru knelt with purpose and used one of his fine claws to slice the lock clean off the chest. One of the sailors protested, but he heard another one shut him up just as quickly. Sesshomaru paid them no heed. They were small and insignificant compared to the discovery he both feared and hoped to make.

Inside the chest were dozens of useless treasures. Gems in dire need of a polish, coins and saffron and matsutake mushrooms and gutted awabi shells and suppon shells. All of this meant nothing to Sesshomaru.

Not when he could spot a bloodied obiage at the bottom. Sesshomaru extracted it with a gentleness he imagined a wetnurse would use when holding a newborn pup for the first time. And there. Buried beneath the layers of copper, of grime and salt, he could smell the faintest traces of ginger.

And grapefruit. Megumi.

Sesshomaru turned around, shocking one of the sailors into flinching. "Which ship did you extract this from?" Perhaps due to shock, none of the foolish creatures voiced an answer to his question. Sesshomaru bit back a snarl as he turned and strode towards the nearest one of them all. Suddenly, all of the acceptance he had cultivated turned and evaporated. In its place was the sharp tang of animosity and fear. This, of course, didn't bother Sesshomaru in the slightest. Let them piss down the sides of their legs at the sight of his anger. Sesshomaru wanted an answer, and he would get one. "This One does not take kindly to imbeciles." Sesshomaru stared down the length of his nose at the quivering whelp before him, and let the creature quiver for a second. Then he narrowed his eyes. "This One will not ask a second time."

"In–in the farthest ship," the man closest to his right sputtered out on behalf of his compatriot. Sesshomaru's eyes slid to see the speaker better. He seemed as nervous as the sailor he had been interrogating, but at least he wasn't shaking so much. "It looked expensive, so we thought it might sell well, once the blood was cleaned off, so we took it, but if you want it, you're welcome to it, sir. I'm sure there's plenty of other ones, back on that ship, if you'd like to go grab more, or–or if you'd like us to go steal you some, we'd be happy to–"

"You'll take nothing else from my ship." The newcomer's voice was low, and obviously threatening. It was also distinctly feminine. When Sesshomaru turned to observe her, he found something curious ripple through expression as they locked eyes. When she turned away to focus on the thieves, however, whatever thought she had formed had been schooled away from her features. As she uttered another threat to the poor imbeciles who had thought themselves keen enough to steal from pirates, Sesshomaru focused his eyes instead on the three ships in the distance. The ship that the obiage had allegedly come from was considerably beaten down, but even from here, Sesshomaru could see the wooden planks and workers shuffling about to put it on the mend. The inu daiyoukai allowed his eyes to follow the curves of the ship from one end to the other, stopping when his eyes detected the one feature he had overlooked in the darkness of the night prior:

Mikazuki. Carved into the very flesh of the ship itself. The name bestowed upon the vessel. Sesshomaru returned his sights to the woman brandishing an impressively curved blade. If that was the Mikazuki, and these sailors had stolen from her, then the youkai woman standing before their ship was likely none other than . . .

"Shimizu Hamasaki," Sesshomaru concluded.

The woman's eyes flitted to him and narrowed. Her face looked tight, strained almost. And she looked tired. He almost expected her to say something in response to her name. Perhaps a demand to know who he was. Or maybe a command to return her ship's belongings.

But instead of saying anything, she turned and walked away.


Shimizu knew he would follow her. She had taken in the sight of Megumi's obiage, held so gently in the daiyoukai's claws that the fabric didn't even crease, and she had known instantly what she was to him. Precious. Valued. Worth hunting Shimizu down for, at the very least. And then, when she had taken in the sight of his fine, silvery hair and his intense golden eyes, she had known who he was. Only Toga could leave behind an heir that would be just as involved with Megumi as he had been. And something in Shimizu almost wanted to keep Megumi away from Toga's child, just as she had with Toga. As a boy Toga had boasted that he could not love another creature as strongly as he did his country. He told Shimizu, during the brief period in which she had known him, that he would sacrifice anything he must for the sake of his lands. His empire. His shiro. His reign came before all else. "You'll need to know this," he had shrugged, "because our parents are attempting to unite us as family."

Shimizu had balked at the bold boy. "But your pack IS the future of your lands. You cannot ignore that."

Again, Toga shrugged. "I cannot see how."

The consideration of their marital alliance ended shortly after that. But Shimizu had not forgotten. And how could she, when she discovered the charge of Toga laying unconscious and abandoned in the forest? She had hoped that he had changed. She had wanted to believe her dear Meg when she insisted that Toga would come for her. And so she had made that promise to Meg.

But Toga hadn't come.

And as she walked away from the boat with the stolen petty treasures and valuables from her ship, she realized that Toga had not come, yes, but this inu had. He so bore the resemblance to Toga . . . but they were not wholly similar. But before Shimizu's thoughts could get too far ahead of her, she remembered with a pang that none of her protective measures mattered anymore.

"Shimizu Hamasaki," the daiyoukai repeated. "Where is she?"

Shimizu sighed, but she led him through the quaint port town towards the room that had been Megumi's resting place for the past ten days. At the door, she hesitated for a moment. She sensed the inu's strong displeasure at being forced to stop now, after coming so far. But Shimizu could not let him go in there without a warning.

One hand on the door, and another against her side, Shimizu glanced at the shadow of Toga's legacy. "Come say goodbye," she whispered. Her voice barely made its way out of her mouth, but with the way the inu's fine ears twitched, she had no doubt that he had heard her.

And then Shimizu opened the door.

Tsukiya had been preparing. For the last two days, he had traded coin for fine, black clothes. Fit for Megumi's birthright. Fit for a hime. They had tended to her hair; had fed her as much as they were able; had given her all sorts of gentle scents for the room so that it would mask the smell of sickness. Megumi was dressed lightly because there was no point in soiling her final garments with the stench of pus and infected flesh until she was well on her way to the spirit realm. The infection in her back had become too much for Megumi's already broken and fragile body.

Tsukiya took one look at the pair of people that had entered the room and carefully made his way out of it. Shimizu almost envied his ability to slip away without reason. Though, when she glanced at the inu daiyoukai, she had a sneaking suspicion that he would not notice if she left the room either. He had eyes only for Megumi. He went to her and took in the scent of death that not even the jasmine in the room could conceal when one was so close to her form. He placed a gentle hand against her skin and felt the same stillness that Shimizu had felt only hours ago.

"When?" That was all he asked.

"This morning."

Shimizu swallowed around the knot in her throat.

Then she left to give the inu some privacy. The men of the Western Lands were cursed, Shimizu concluded. Cursed to never arrive on time. Megumi's side would forever remain vacant. Shimizu was so caught up in her own thoughts that she did not hear the faint whisper of metal shifting in its sheath.


"Forgive me, Meg."

Megumi's eyes went wide. "Toga? I thought I left you, back in that . . . place. How can you be here."

Toga's smile was warm, sympathetic. "I am not alive, Meg. I cannot stay in the land of the living forever." Megumi's body felt very frail. "And as it appears, neither are you."

"Oh."

"As happy as I am to see you again, I wish you had had more time in this world. You should not have joined me here so early."

Megumi swayed, saying nothing. She felt that she had a reason for avoiding Toga's eyes, but it felt so far away from her now.

"I had left you a letter. Buried in the garden that we used to walk in together. Under the plum tree. I hoped that it would explain everything to you, in the event I could never find you, but it appears that it is useless now."

"A letter?" Megumi echoed.

Toga turned, looking into the distance. Megumi's head felt too flimsy to turn. She noticed, though, that the more time she spent here, the more solid she felt. So she really was dead then. "I left letters for all whom I loved. You, Sesshomaru, Kimi, and Katsumi. Inuyasha and Izayoi came too late for me to write to them. Perhaps one of them can find the letters instead."

"I don't understand."

Toga extended a hand. Megumi wasn't sure that she wanted to take it. "The letter would have explained in my stead, but seeing as you're here . . . we'll have all the time in the world now for explanations. Come, Meg. Let me show you the next step."

"Where would you take me?"

"To your family." Almost as an answer to his voice, two figures appeared out of the senseless fog she felt in. Megumi had been so, so small when she had last laid eyes on those two figures, but her heart identified them long before her eyes did.

"Okasan," Megumi breathed. "Otosan."

Megumi's legs felt solid enough to move them on her own. And move them she did. Megumi was striding towards her parents, moving almost as if in slow motion when finally something snapped in her. All of her weight dissipated. The solid foundation that had given her body structure was gone, robbed from her, and Megumi felt lost and confused.

Toga, however, smiled.

"Good boy, Sesshomaru."

Before she could blink, Toga and her parents were gone. Megumi was alone in the darkness, without form and without bearing, adrift and scared. And suddenly, Megumi was nothing.


Megumi ached in a way that felt unearthly. She could have sworn that she had been with Toga just now; had been with her parents. But no; she was definitely laying down. The space she laid in smelled suffocatingly of jasmine, and Megumi wanted to choke. Why the perfume was so intense, Megumi couldn't guess. She ached to open her eyes, and for a second, they did not respond to her desires. A faint sliver of fear snaked through her core as she wondered if she was blind again. Perhaps, then, it would be a good idea to probe gentle pulses of her power through the area before she gave away the fact that she was awake.

That was when the real panic set in. When Megumi set out to summon her draconic spirit, there was nothing.

Megumi's eyes snapped open with terror. She had never been a day without her draconic spirit. Hell, she couldn't live without it. What happened? Where did it go? What was wrong with her?

Megumi's thoughts came to a screeching halt. She didn't need unearthly power to let her know that there was someone else in the room watching her. Someone that could potentially be a threat.

Megumi fought to bring her voice out of her mouth, but her throat burned. It felt thick and overwhelmingly dry.

She coughed and tried to swallow.

From the corner of the room enclosed in shadow, the figure stirred. Megumi found herself doing a double-take as she realized who was in this space with her. He looked just as regal and composed as he had when she had seen him last. And just as angry, too. Megumi fought against her screaming body as she tried to push back against the futon, away from the Western Lord's glare.

"Don't."

Megumi froze.

Sesshomaru took his time moving to the far side of the room, where a pitcher and a shallow cup lay. It was almost like he was hesitant to move any faster than a whisper. Megumi did not understand the gentleness in his movements. He poured, carefully, before turning and presenting the liquid to Megumi. Wary, but annoyed by the itch in her throat, Megumi allowed Sesshomaru the pleasure of tipping the cup against her lips so she may drink. Megumi coughed again after she finished, but this time, she felt like she could move her mouth without pain.

As Sesshomaru returned for a second round of whatever smooth liquid he had seen fit to have her drink, Megumi worried about what could possibly be going on in his head. She was terrified that he was still angry with her.

When Megumi was sure that her throat was well enough to allow syllables to pass through it, she ventured a sentence.

"You're angry," she rasped quietly. It wasn't a question.

Sesshomaru froze at the sound of her voice. Then, slowly, he returned to her side. He kneeled by the side of her futon and refused to look anywhere but at her. The intensity of his gaze almost made Megumi want to squirm.

"I am."

Megumi's eyes flickered away from his as she attempted to draw further within herself, but Sesshomaru wasn't having that. He spoke with even measures, but little pauses, almost like he did not want to give Megumi time to misunderstand him.

"This One is angry that you let me leave Inuyasha's village without making me understand what you did, and why you did it. This One is angry that you took the burden of finding Katsumi yourself. This One is angry that you let yourself get this wounded. This One is angry–kami, Megumi–but This One is most angry at me for letting you leave with so many things unsaid and unheard."

Megumi looked at him again, eyes wide with confusion. "I don't understand."

"My father saw a vision of you being tortured. He searched desperately for you. He was doomed never to find you because of Katsumi's actions, but that did not mean he did not try."

That familiar pang in Megumi's chest was back. Eyes misting, Megumi looked away. "Is that all you came here to say?"

"No. This One foolishly thought that your actions removed my free will; that my reconciliation with Toga and Inuyasha was merely an illusion of free will that you conceived. That was wrong. You gave me a way, a reason, but you could not choose for Inuyasha and This One whether or not Toga's heirs would pick up those blades. Katsumi returned the memories that belong to me. The memories of you. You have never been anything but compassionate and considerate regarding those whom you love. This One had doubted you, Megumi Madarame. And for that . . . This One . . . I apologize."

Megumi couldn't breathe through the wall of shock that Sesshomaru had struck her with. She had her memories of those fifty years with Sesshomaru back, and so she knew that in all the time that she had known Sesshomaru, she had never once heard him apologize. Ever. Megumi strained against the will of her aching body, trying to sit up so that she could see Sesshomaru better. She could feel the covers falling around her, but paid no heed to them. Her eyes were just as transfixed on Sesshomaru as his were on hers.

"I still don't understand, Sesshomaru. Why are you here? Hell, why am I here? And why are you apologizing, now? Why–" Megumi's voice wavered, "–come all the way here?"

Sesshomaru remained silent for a moment, and that silence felt worse than all of her aches and pains.

"You deserve to be found." Megumi froze. "You have waited for centuries, endured what you did not deserve, because you wanted to be found just as badly as Katsumi did. It never mattered that Toga and Kimi could not find you despite searching, because Toga was destined never to reunite and repair his relationships in life." Sesshomaru moved closer but his eyes never left hers. "I am here to do what you did for me–to offer you a choice, one that will allow you to fix what you feel is broken."

Oh.

Megumi turned quickly away from Sesshomaru's intense gaze. "I didn't do that so you could pay me back." Sesshomaru's fingers were gentle as he guided her face so that she was looking in his direction again.

"This One does this not out of obligation, to either you or my father. I am here because I wish to be. I cannot stand to leave things the way they are." Something flashed in his eyes briefly, his expression becoming guarded for a brief moment. "You would not be here, had Tenseiga not arrived sooner."

Megumi balked. "I died?"

"You were a fool to take on a draconic form when you did not have power enough to sustain it," Sesshomaru said firmly, and left it at that.

So she had seen Toga and her parents, then. All of that had been very, very real. Megumi attempted to swallow down her nervousness. But she couldn't shake the nervousness that loomed around her head when she started to connect the dots. She had awoken to feel the absence of her power; she had died. There was nothing in the scrolls to say that the Spirit of the Twin Dragons would return to their host on the off chance they were resurrected. Was there any precedent? For all she knew, the next Twin Dragon of Timidity had already been born. She needed something else to focus on, other than the fact that she had died and returned to life, possibly without her draconic essence.

"What choice, Sesshomaru?"

For the first time, Sesshomaru sounded both determined and vulnerable. "Return to Japan with me."

The Western Lord rested his brow against Megumi's shoulder, and she realized two things–one, she was very much naked from the waist up (save for the dressings over her wounds), and two, Sesshomaru was actually nervous about asking this of her. Megumi's breath practically held itself as he continued.

"Let me prove to you that there are people still who care for you, Megumi."

"Prove?" she echoed faintly. So much was swirling in her mind right now, she hardly knew what to focus on. Sesshomaru's words talked sense into her, and she knew all bitterness she could have held towards Toga and Katsumi had all but left her. She knew, more strongly now than she had as she watched Sesshomaru abandon her even as his taste remained so vivid in her mouth, how desperately she wanted him. Needed him. Yearned for him even, in a thousand different ways she never knew she was capable of. And if her breath had been trapped inside of her before, his next words stole it away completely.

"Take me as your mate, Meg."

"What?" she gasped, trying for all she was worth to puddle together a cohesive sentence. It was worse that his forehead was still against her shoulder, eyes closed, his warm breath ghosting over her breasts and sending goosebumps in its wake. "Sesshomaru, you don't really mean that."

"This One would not lie," he insisted, now moving his nose gently to nudge her shoulder before pulling back to look at her. "You have given me something I was not sure I would ever find. In only months you were able to make me feel in ways I have never been inclined to before for anyone else. You have irreparably broken me, Megumi, and the emotions I once controlled so finely flow unrestrained in your presence." The gaze with which he held her was so sincere, she shivered. She'd never seen him like this, and what's more, a secret part of her enjoyed that everything he was right now–his voice of unspoken, deep emotions, his gaze of complete sincerity, his touches of insistence–were hers alone to see. "Your very nature intrigues me. Your grace enchants me. Your voice soothes me. Your touch," he murmured, looking at her now in a way that made heat pool in her stomach, excites me. You are something irreplaceably unique to this world, and yet you are more: you are irreplaceable to me."

Sesshomaru's gaze flickered as it once again shifted, and his voice carried a softness Megumi found herself falling for immediately.

"If it is not you, Megumi Madarame, then I shall have no other."


Author's Note:

And here we are, the final chapter. Rest assured, I'll be making an epilogue as requested. So stay tuned for that! Thank you all for following the story thus far; I appreciate it more than you know! I can't believe we're almost done with it after all this time. :)