Satomi walked through the shrine house's front door, hung her keys on the hook, and shook her fingers through the short strands of her hair. Then, she smiled. It had been a good night, and Grandpa would have loved every minute of it.
"Over five hundred years," she murmured to herself, lighting a stick of incense for her father-in-law as she passed the small altar in her home. The smell of smoke and sandalwood wrapped her in a sense of calm, and her smile grew wistful. "Amazing."
Leaning a hip against the wall, she bent and pulled off her shoes. She had forgotten to leave them in the genkan in her distraction over the night's events.
Lazily tossing the shoes back where they belonged, she mussed her hair again and rolled her shoulders. They lived closer than she could have hoped, but it was still a long drive. She couldn't complain though. It beat centuries of separation any day.
Thoughts of her grandchildren—great grandchildren—filled her mind as she tidied up the minor disarray that she had left behind when heading out the door earlier, and she found her spirit lightening. The motley mix of adults and children filled her with a satisfaction and peace that she hadn't known was possible.
Five years before on the night the panthers had attacked, her life had turned upside down. She had loved and faced the stabbing pain of loss only to gain a family she hadn't known existed in the span of minutes. It had been shocking. Almost unbelievable. There hadn't even been enough time to fully recognize the grief that had taken root over the sudden loss of Kagome and Sesshoumaru before they were once again standing before her. Her relief had been indescribable, but it had also come with a confusion that even years later she still hadn't fully processed.
"Life is strange," she murmured. For a moment, she let that strangeness wash over her. It never helped to pretend it didn't exist. But despite it and the unique circumstances that came with uncommon tensions, there wasn't one moment she would sacrifice—nor one person.
"I'd do it all again." She stopped to look at herself in a mirror before heading up the stairs. There were a few more lines in her face that hadn't been there when this whole new crazy part of her life started, and she thought with no small amount of amusement that her family more than assuredly was responsible.
Still, it was worth it.
She nodded to her image, affirming her conviction. Then, bidding her reflection goodbye, she started up the stairs and snickered to herself. Oh, her grands were a handful.
Satomi grabbed a laundry basket filled with freshly folded clothing and made her way toward Souta's room, pulling the door to Kagome's old room shut on the way as she reminisced over the evening. She hadn't laughed that hard in a good long time. Between the speech, Naoki raising hell with his antics, and the little ones climbing all over the place, it had been a good night for memories.
Besides, she didn't think any of them had seen Sesshoumaru spit wine like that before.
"Miyu," she laughed, shaking her head. Raising a hand, she knocked on Souta's door. "Honey, are you in there?"
No answer.
"Souta, last chance, and I'm coming in."
Nothing. Must not be back yet.
Satomi pushed the door open and flicked the switch, sighing as the lighting revealed what amounted to a disaster area once it had fully warmed. Apparently, she had raised an animal.
"Well, this is fun." Frowning, she placed her free hand on her hip. She wouldn't usually even think of touching her son's mess, but after the turmoil of losing Grandpa and life being upturned while dealing with the aftermath of that, she was beginning to crave a sense of normalcy. And a new normal wouldn't establish itself.
Resigning herself to college male induced chaos, she quickly placed the clean laundry on the bed so she would have something to collect dirty clothes and odds and ends in. Strewn clothing and books were scattered all over the floor, an odd cup or plate on various surfaces—including his desk and dresser. And in the corner of the room, a haphazardly flung towel hung from Tessaiga's hilt.
She huffed her exasperation. "Really, Souta? You know better than this." Swiping the towel off the sword, she tossed it into the now empty basket. Sesshoumaru would have kittens. She wrinkled her nose a bit, suppressing a laugh. Technically, Shimeko and Jiro meant he already had.
Turning her attention to the rest of the mess, she began swiping up random bits of clutter and adding them to the basket to deal with later while she tried to ignore the sword in the corner.
Satomi couldn't explain why, but something about it made her uneasy. While she had a respect for the heirloom, the ancient weapon was a mixed bag of emotions where her family was concerned. It was the red string of fate that tied them all together.
The sudden image of a red-clad hanyou sprung to mind, and a different kind of grief stabbed through her. "I'm just going to be haunted by ghosts tonight," she mumbled, pushing back tears. She missed him too, and things had never quite been the same since finding out he had sacrificed himself for the sake of her daughter and his brother.
Inuyasha and that sword were the only reason she hadn't lost Kagome—were the only reasons she had gained the steadfast friendship she had in Sesshoumaru.
It was a sobering thought. Without the Tessaiga, nothing she knew now would exist, and she frowned as the thought entered her mind. It was a strange mixture of blessing and heartache, heralding one of the greatest, though briefest, losses she had faced. But it had also protected her daughter—protected her family—and now it stood as a reminder of one they all loved and missed.
She glowered. And she had found a wet towel hanging from it.
"Boys," she muttered, throwing boxers into the basket. Heaving a sigh, she shook the grimy feeling of unclean laundry from her hands. "As soon as he gets back, I'm going to—"
"Take me back."
Satomi dropped the towel, head whipping around. "Who's there?"
"Take me back."
Her eyes widened. Tessaiga.
A faint pulse echoed from the sword, and she stumbled backward, legs buckling underneath her when she ran into Souta's bed. The pulse resonated again, and she barely caught herself from falling as she sank down. "No." She shook her head. "No, swords don't talk. You don't talk."
For a moment, the Tessaiga seemed to agree.
Satomi sat there, her eyes glued to the sword. Waiting. Watching. A cold sweat broke out over her skin, and she could feel her body start to tremble. You're going crazy, Satomi. Thinking back to a few days before, she remembered Souta's excited face as he headed out the door to class casually tossing over his shoulder that it had begun to sing again. She hadn't shared his excitement, but singing was at least somewhat normal for the sword. Talking? No. This had never happened before.
"Chris's wine," she said to herself, pressing an unsteady hand to her forehead. "You drank too much of that wine. That's all this is." When a few minutes passed and nothing more happened, she pushed herself up, laughing nervously as she reached for the laundry basket. "Just a bit too much—"
"Take me back."
Cold terror sank into the pit of her stomach, and she shot up, nearly tripping over the basket as she fled the room.
She didn't look back.
oOoOoOo
"I know that look."
Sesshoumaru closed his eyes and let his face tilt up to the moonlight. Sunflowers, cut grass, sweet lemon…Nozomi.
A peaceful smile spread over his lips as a warm presence sank down beside him, and he lifted his arm, feeling his daughter tuck into his side.
"Hi, Papa."
The mellow sound of her voice washed over him, instilling a sense of tranquility, and he squeezed her where she sat, barely suppressing a smirk when she giggled. Still ticklish.
"Who were you thinking about?"
He frowned. She was also almost annoyingly astute. Flicking a dry blade of grass, he avoided answering her question. "Where's your mate?"
Nozomi let the evasion slide and snickered. "Junpei is currently leading the snore-a-thon in the middle of the pup pile upstairs." She leaned closer and dropped her head against his shoulder. "Don't make me suffer that. He's currently outdoing Akimichi."
Sesshoumaru chuckled quietly.
"See?" Her voice had softened, and he could hear the smile in it. "Made you laugh."
A sense of calm rolled over him, and Sesshoumaru felt some of the tension held trapped in his muscles relax. She had always been a stabilizing presence in their family. "That you did."
"So, you going to tell me who you were thinking about now?"
Tension snapped back like the recoil of a whip, and he glowered.
"Oof, that face is a mood," she said, poking him in the ribs. When he slanted a look at her, a bit of her humor slipped, letting the understanding shine through. "He's been on my mind too."
Akio
Beside him Nozomi sighed, though she didn't cry. It had been too long and the pain too familiar—too engrained—to spark sudden tears. But he could detect the subtle change in her natural scent as her brother came to mind, the sweet lemon souring a bit with the old grief.
"He would have loved tonight."
Saying nothing, Sesshoumaru nodded. Of all their children who had known Akio, Nozomi had the strongest attachment, the two having come into the family together. His loss had had a profound impact on her.
For a while they simply sat in silence together, watching the moon arch and continue in its descent across the cold sky. It was darker here at the house than other parts of the city, and more stars were visible, their white light glittering with the vague memory of a time long ago.
"Look!" The skittish tail of a meteor streaked across the darkness, and Nozomi lifted her head to smile up at him. "We don't see many of those anymore."
"No, we do not."
She didn't say anything else, but Sesshoumaru could still feel her eyes on him. He turned after a minute to look at her and found her still looking up at him.
"What is it, Nozomi?"
She shrugged, but her smile didn't falter. "Nothing really. It's just been a good night."
Sesshoumaru tightened his hold on her. She wasn't wrong. Even in the midst of some more unpleasant realizations, more members of their family than they could have hoped for were together, and neither he nor Kagome could complain about that. "It has."
They fell back into silence then. And despite the hour, more of his daughters began to appear. Ahead near the edge of the woods, Maya and Miyu walked arm-in-arm, whispering in the dark while Minoko, Shimeko, Hanako, and Yuna trailed not far behind, their soft giggles traveling over the stillness.
"Do any of you sleep?" he murmured, arching a brow when five-year-old Umeko appeared out of nowhere, streaking across the yard straight toward her sisters in a fit of laughter and soap suds. Seconds later, it was Kara who breathlessly caught up with the naked pup, scooping her up and tickling away squalling protests as she carried her back to the house to go finish her bath and go to bed.
Nozomi laughed beside him. "Doesn't look like it."
He opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by the sound of the sliding door flying open.
"Alright, bitches! Who wants coffee?" The sound of too many ceramic mugs clinking together in one hand chimed in the dark. "I stole Papa's!"
Akari. Sesshoumaru turned to level a look at the fox over his shoulder. He was secretly satisfied to see that he could still make all the color suddenly drained from her face when unsuspectingly busted, as Kagome liked to call it.
"Oops." Chittering nervously, she guiltily set a large carafe and several mugs down on the table and then turned all five tails back toward the house. "I'll go get another mug."
Several snickers came from across the yard as the rest of his girls headed in for the after-hours caffeine boost.
"Someone wasn't using her nose," Minoko sing-songed, bending to pop a kiss to his cheek as she walked past to the tables.
Maya and Miyu laughed in unison, settling on either side of him and Nozomi instead of following the others to the patio. And a minute later, Hanako was tucking a warm mug into his hands.
Sesshoumaru offered her a tired smile. "Thank you."
"Black like you like it. It'll perk you right up." Hanako winked at him and then spun on her foot, going back to pour more.
His expression turned fond. She had always been an optimistic child, and she had a determined investment in her family's creature comforts. Lifting the mug, he was about to take a sip when Nozomi craned her neck up and wrapped her lips over the rim, stealing the first bit.
Miyu snorted. "Some things never change." She elbowed Nozomi and was swatted off blindly.
Sesshoumaru watched big brown eyes blink at him unapologetically over the dark liquid and narrowed his own halfheartedly. "No, they certainly do not." When she was six, it had been his tea. When she grew older, his sake. After centuries? It was whatever happened to be in his hand.
His eyes softened a bit. That little habit had been the first sign that she had become comfortable around him after they took her in as a child. Even though she was too old for the antic now, he didn't think he'd ever be able to tell her to stop.
Nozomi finally swallowed down her stolen sip and laughed, swiping a hand over her mouth. "Mmm, can't really blame Akari for stealing yours. It's definitely the best."
"I know, right?" Maya reached over and took the mug from his hand, stealing her own sip. She grinned sheepishly when he glared and handed it back. "Sorry, Papa. But like they said—"
"Things never change," Sesshoumaru finished. He lifted the mug to his lips, looking straight out into the night as the warm liquid slid down his throat. Things never change.
Never had there been a more untrue statement.
"Hey, you okay?"
Nozomi's voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he looked down to find her watching him curiously. The heavy weight of Maya and Miyu's gazes lay on him as well.
Offering a tight smile, Sesshoumaru briefly made eye contact with each of the girls before looking back out into the night. "I am fine."
But as he lifted his coffee to take another drink, he felt Nozomi lean closer and Maya's hand rest on his back, rubbing small circles. Miyu, always the one to push things just a bit further, dove her claws straight into his hair and lightly scratched at his scalp.
"Bullshit, Papa," Miyu mumbled.
Maya's head came down on his shoulder. "I have to second the bullshit."
"Count me on the bullshit train too," Nozomi said softly, slipping both arms around his waist.
Sesshoumaru closed his eyes, swallowing the coffee down around a sudden knot in his throat. It felt tight. Painful. The hot liquid seared him straight to his chest, reminiscent of another ache—one so deep and suffocating that could steal his breath with the burden it bore.
"Papa?" Maya said gently.
He grew still. Too still. Inhaling deeply, he ignored the knife-life stabbing in his lungs and tried to suppress the sudden rise of unpleasant memories—the sudden reminder of his mistakes.
"Hey." Nozomi squeezed him more tightly. "It's okay. We're okay."
Sesshoumaru growled and set his mug down. Without a word, he stretched his arms out around all three of the girls and pulled them close. They toppled around him, squalling and laughing their protests against being knocked around and "manhandled," and a sweet relief slowly bled into the tension that threatened to choke him.
He didn't deserve them.
His mug suddenly rustled through the grass, and he turned his head just in time to see Miyu snaking his coffee.
"What?" she shrugged and grinned as she lifted the mug to her mouth. "Shouldn't have let it go."
"Sesshoumaru!"
"Dad!"
Panic tinged the voices shouting for him, and his shoulders dropped, his peace shattered.
Beside him, Maya nervously licked her lips. "Is this…"
She couldn't finish.
Eyes hardening, Sesshoumaru pushed back the heavy feeling that blazed in his chest. "Miyu, keep that warm."
He stood.
"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!" Nozomi squealed, lifting off the ground with him. "I'm human, slow, and still attached!"
He pried Nozomi free of his waist and set her down, just as Chris approached with a visibly upset Kagome. And when his eyes met his mate's, he knew. She didn't have to say anything. The cold dread swimming in her eyes sank into his bones and told him everything he needed to know.
Kagome held out her phone, the device shaking in her unsteady grip. "Mama," she croaked.
Sesshoumaru held her eyes as silence and understanding passed between them. Suddenly, centuries of memories felt like millennia.
"Grandma's freaking out," Chris said, his voice barely holding its normal calm. "She's been screaming since…"
Sesshoumaru didn't hear the rest of what their son said. Not dropping Kagome's gaze, he took the phone and lifted it to his ear.
"I am here, Satomi."
A/N: *peeks around corner*
Thank you for reading! For those of you reading here on FFNET, you've not had to wait as long to have this story updated, but it has been around seven months between chapter 2 and 3 being done. If you have been enjoying this, please drop a note and let me know there is still interest in seeing this one continued since it's been so long. I hope this finds you all well. Stay safe! Things are still crazy out there!
