Chapter Fifty-Four: Mind Over Weapon
With kind eyes behind a snarling mask, Sesshoumaru looked down at Kagome. "Shall we?"
Smiling through her mask, she nodded at him. "Let's do it."
Sweeping his long mane to the side, he knelt onto the ground, glass shards crackling under his boots as he turned and presented his back to her.
She blinked, and his cotton tunic transformed into firerat fur and his fine, silver hair turned coarse and white. For a moment, she saw a broad back on a smaller frame and the hilt of an old, ragged sword. She saw Inuyasha. He spied back at her, exuding fearless confidence with a sly smirk.
"Kagome?" he called to her, but his voice was wrong. It was polished marble when it should have been raw granite.
She blinked again, and his red coat turned white except for splashes of color over his left shoulder and along the tails of his tunic and sash.
Sesshoumaru waited. "Are you all right?"
"It's just that…" she began, wistfulness stealing her words, "This is how Inuyasha and I used to go into battle, and for a second, you reminded me of him…"
"I see."
"I'm sorry. I didn't—"
"It's an honor," he interjected smoothly. "To fill that role for you. For this world. Not to replace it, but to live up to it instead."
Her smile returned, wrinkling her eyes.
He nodded towards his back, beckoning her to him, and she felt herself drawn forward, answering his call. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged his sides with her legs. Gently, he hooked his arms under her knees, and without the least bit of effort, he stood up. Feeling supported, she leaned back, her hands receding to his shoulders, and she took in the chaos around her.
Strewn across the ground amid the rubble, men groaned feebly, bodies bruised and ribs broken. Nimbly, they wove past them towards the porte-cochere's exit. The warm sun shone down of them when they cleared the exit, and in the distance, the blockade of police cruisers crept forward, cautiously approaching the tower along the frontage road. Soon, they enveloped the armored vehicles and sedans, officers scurrying as they dragged the wounded to safety.
Spying up at the tower's dizzying apex, Sesshoumaru paid them no mind. With the flick of his fingers, he activated his gauntlets, and she felt his youki pulse against her calves and the back of her thighs. It cascaded down, ruffling his pants and tugging at his tunic tails. And when it splashed across his boots, it began to swirl around them like a pair of whirlpools. He stepped up into the air as if climbing an invisible staircase until he floated steadily above the ground. He hovered for a breath, testing the strength and flow of his power, and then like Mercury in flight, he sprang upward. Black threading silver, their hair whipped behind them as they soared, the city around them a blur. But as they reached the apogee of his leap, everything slowed and came into focus. His youki flared like a cushion and they landed midair several stories up.
A gasp escaped Kagome as she peered down at the ground. The police swarmed the street, their lights flashing atop their cruisers, but beyond them, there were only empty blocks of a city in lockdown. She felt his muscles flex beneath her body, gathering power for another leap.
Then he sprang again.
The wind lashed her face and tore tears from her eyes. Her heart thundered in her chest, not out of fear but with exhilaration as the city gradually shrank away.
"It's amazing," she remarked, her voice filled with wonder. "I don't remember you flying. At least not often."
"It's a very youki-demanding feat," he replied as he alit on air nearly thirty stories above the ground. "With the loss of my pelt which served as a reservoir of power, flight requires more precision than I'm otherwise accustomed to."
"Oh? Should we have infiltrated through the building with Tora?" she asked. "If you spend too much youki, you could die."
"His success depends on your eyes and skill. Our plan stands a greater chance of victory with this approach."
"But still…"
"You need not concern yourself," he assured, spying back at her as he readied his next leap. "Being a shadow of my former self for so long has made me frugal whereas before I lacked restraint."
She laughed. "I thought being restrained was your defining feature back in the day."
"Perhaps in personality," he agreed, smirking, "But slaughtering a thousand youkai with a single sword swing was hardly a measured response in most situations."
"You're talking about the sword you pulled from your arm?" she wondered aloud and shook her head. "I barely remember. Defeating Naraku in that final battle was all a blur towards the end."
"Bakusaiga. The breadth of that sword's power was breathtaking. With one swing, any foe that touched the wave was incinerated. And anything living that touched the foe was destroyed by the same power. A chain reaction of death like a fanning tree branch. Proof that I no longer needed the charity of my father's bequests for I had surpassed him in my own right. And yet…"
She waited, enjoying the thrill as gravitational forces pulled her down as he leapt up a dozen more stories.
"And yet," he continued. "It was power sealed within a weapon, like Tessaiga or Tenseiga. Or Tokijin for that matter. I possessed the ability to wield those weapons but that's where the doubt lies. Because drawing on the power stored within a weapon is different than drawing on that which exists within yourself."
Kagome laughed ruefully under her breath. "Where's the line? What's you and what's the weapon?"
He made another leap, the crest of the tower racing towards them.
"Sometimes I wonder," she continued as she reached for the compound bow slung across her back, "Was it me or was it the sacred bow that phased my purification arrow through Naraku's monstrous form as he loomed in the sky? Was it me or was it Kikyou's soul that allowed the arrow to pass through his body unobstructed? Was it me or was it fate that guided its tip unerringly to the Shikon-no-Tama, letting it touch nothing else?"
Less than a dozen stories remained as he approached the apex of his leap.
She reached back, feeling the synthetic fletching of a gas-tipped arrow. "Right now, though, I believe in my power and my purpose. I won't let doubt in myself, in us, or our mission to have a hold over me, because there is no line between me and my bow anymore."
OOOOOOOOOO
With brushed steel doors and muraled panels, the elevator lobby at the penthouse floor teemed with men. Wearing tailored suits with flaring collars, they patrolled the hallway anxiously, whispering to each other with guns in hand. Turning rust red as it dried, blood smeared the polished, wood floor, creating a grisly trail that ended in bodies piled into a corner. Brothers in appearance, there was hardly a difference between the living and the dead except that it was the Shikai loyalists whose hearts still beat.
The elevator dinged once softly, and the arrow indicating up glowed white.
Their conversations dying, the men looked up, their eyes pinned to the digital readout over the elevator doors. Single digit numbers crept up to double digits. The elevator car was climbing.
Nervously, several unloaded their magazines. Stacked, copper-colored bullets confirmed they were full and with a clack, they shoved them back into their guns. Pulling on the slides, they racked them, putting a bullet in every chamber.
And then they waited as the number rose, clearing the eighties.
With a dozen floors left, the number hit triple digits. The men raised their guns at the sealed doors, their aim steady. Others sidled towards the floor-to-ceiling window, hoping the bright sunlight blinded their enemies long enough to give them an edge.
Sweat dappled temples as the silence broke with the hum of the approaching car.
The number ticked to the penthouse floor.
The elevator dinged twice.
And the doors glided open.
Deafening gunfire filled the air, echoing off the walls of the lobby. Ringing steel added to the cacophony as bullets shredded the back of the car. Through gritted teeth, the men inhaled the stink of burning gunpowder, their fingers pinned to triggers as they unloaded bullets in a steady stream. The popping gunshots thinned, replaced by the clicking of empty magazines.
Ragged breaths tore at the men's throats as adrenalin coursed through them. Glancing at each other, they chuckled, tickled by relief. They were all still standing. But when their attention returned to the car, they froze. In the wake of their ferocious onslaught, only an empty elevator awaited them, its lights flickering.
A shadow fell through the window.
The men spied out over their shoulders and their jaws dropped.
With eyes burning gold, the demon appeared floating in midair, his hair and tunic weightless from the momentum. High on his back, a woman perched, her glare as bright as his.
The men's eyes widened when they spotted the bow in her hands, drawn and ready. They felt for their pockets, groping for fresh magazines, but it was too late.
With a thwip, the nocked arrow flew, and as it rocketed towards the window, it disappeared.
They exhaled a shaky breath.
And then in their midst, the arrow reappeared, whole and its trajectory unbroken. It struck the floor with a loud hiss and a cloud of white smoke filled the lobby.
She drew again and in quick succession, three more arrows manifested, each one striking the floor and releasing more billowing smoke.
The dense smoke enveloped the men, turning them all into shifting silhouettes as they fumbled through it. Desperately, they waved their hands, trying to clear it, but instead it simply curled and flowed, undaunted. Confusion followed, and they started to shout, the cohesion of their ranks faltering.
And as doubt seeped into their resolve, the ceiling panel in the elevator car slid to the side.
On nimble feet, Tora silently dropped down. Cautiously, he surveyed the disarray as he reached for the batons strapped to his thighs. Grinning under his mask, he gave each a handy twirl and then charged into the fray.
Tiny, blue arcs crackled at the tip of one baton and he jabbed it hard into the closest man's abdomen. Through grinding teeth, a stuttering cry burst from the man as he seized from the electricity, his body jerking. Noticing his distress, another man spun and when he spotted Tora, he lunged for his back, bringing his gun to bear. Pivoting smoothly, Tora dodged to the side, his free baton arcing upward and he swatted at the man's hand, sending his gun flying. With a twirl, he then jammed the baton's end into his gut and hit the button. Electricity coursed into the man and he twitched uncontrollably.
The clacking of reloaded guns followed, and Tora fled, disappearing into the smoke.
Like a shark gliding beneath the water's surface, he wove his way through the lobby as the remaining men clustered together, back-to-back.
One man strayed, lost in the smoke. Hearing him struggle, the others called out to him, but before he could answer, an arm wrapped around his neck in a sleeper hold. Another shock and another writhing body on the floor.
Panic rippled through the ranks.
Muzzles flashed as the men fired into the unknown, and when their magazines emptied, a gloved hand reached for one, dragging him in. Sickening thumps and a crackling taser followed, turning grunts into agonized groans until there was only one man left.
"Who are you?" he whimpered, his gun aiming wildly as he backed up against the window.
"Nobody worth remembering," Tora taunted, the smoke distorting the direction of his voice. "Kind of like you."
"Then… Then what do you want?"
"I want my girlfriend back," he growled.
Charging in from the side, Tora flanked him. With a finger-breaking strike from the baton, the man's gun clattered onto the floor. Crying out, he grasped at his mangled hand. Tora grabbed him by the forehead and thrust his head into the window. The window rang out from the blow and the man slumped senselessly onto his side.
His heart racing in his chest, Tora gazed down at the matte black batons in his hands and smiled. "These %&$#ing things are the best."
"Are you all right, Tora?!" Kagome shouted, her voice muffled by the glass.
"Yeah," he replied, and he slid the batons back into their holsters. "I hope Bikini Girl doesn't want her toys back, because these are mine forever."
"In that case, expect her to make you work at the shrine as payment for them."
"Totally worth it!" he assured, then he furrowed an eyebrow. "Are you %&$#ing flying, Sesshoumaru?"
Hovering in the air, the daiyoukai shrugged noncommittally.
Tora sighed. "I'm a kitten among gods."
An icy gale blew through them, bringing with it a vision of a snow-blanketed forest, eerie in its silence. Black trunks with spindly branches reached towards the gray sky, desolate and begging for spring.
"She knows we're here," Sesshoumaru warned.
"It's sooner than we expected," Tora noted, shivering from the imagined cold, "But we still have time, right? We just need to find Higurashi-san and then we can bail. After that, we can regroup and make another plan to take the oyabun out."
He breathed in, scenting the air, and his attention shifted across the face of the tower. An edge hardened his voice. "Back up, Tora."
Nodding, Tora took a few steps back, and Sesshoumaru freed a hand. He raised it up, making a fist, and put it through the window. The thick glass shattered, shards raining down. Tora kicked away the remaining sharp edges along the frame's base. Still afloat, Sesshoumaru turned his back to the cleared window.
"Kagome," he commanded, his eyes still locked on the tower, "Go with him and find your mother. When she's safely with you, head for the stairwell and escape. Do not wait for me."
"But—" she objected.
"Do not wait for me."
Gently, Tora reached up, grabbing onto her sides and bearing her weight as she slipped from Sesshoumaru's back.
"Don't worry," he assured as he shepherded Kagome from the edge. "We'll take care of our part. Just take care of yours… We believe in you."
Sesshoumaru nodded and he drifted away from the window.
"Wait," Kagome called out to him.
He paused.
"Maybe you didn't surpass your father like you thought years ago, but you're more than your weapons now. Just like I proved that I'm more than my bow or my destiny."
For a moment, he glanced towards her, and through the gaps in his mask, she saw his serious expression soften. He nodded again.
And then he was gone, shooting across the face of the tower, his destination unknown.