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Strangled Time
Chapter 12
Whenever Kagome was away from the well's clearing, the silence was palpable. Not necessarily negatively so, Togashimaru amended to himself, but prominently. There were times when the quiet was welcome, to allow him to rest and muse. In the same token, the priestess' energy and conversation provided him with a much welcome distraction and entertainment when the void of his own mind became overwhelming.
In her absence, birdsong reigned supreme in his senses. Twittering little balls of black, brown, and yellow feathers swarmed in flocks on the baring branches to curiously watch over the dog below. The carrion creatures that smelled his blood and craved his flesh would circle above as well, but he had enough control over his aura to shoo them off when they edged too close for comfort.
They mostly learned to keep their distance.
Other than the crows, there wasn't much else of interest in that end of the forest. Which was odd; they should have been discovered by at least a dozen lesser demons by the smell of their campsite alone. Yet the woods were clear.
Honestly, he shouldn't complain about that sort of luck. He certainly wasn't up for another battle at that moment, at least not against anything larger than a bird. The carrion crows were large enough to lift a large child and had talons as thick as his own fingers, but if one were to wander within his reach he was sure of his ability to shred it to ribbons. Perhaps he would lure them in and do just that when his need for action grew too strong.
As if hearing his murderous plot, one of the massive black beasts cawed to warn the other and then they both took flight over the mountainside.
But no, it wasn't the power of his own mind that had scared them off—he hasn't even flexed his claws at them with the intention to intimidate as he found was so amusing to do, since they would hesitate and hobble from foot to foot when he did—it was a much more present threat. Kagome's electric charge crackled with irritation as she crested the hill.
From where he was sitting in the shadows of the tree line, futuristic pocketknife and walking stick in hands with curly wood shavings on his lap, Togashimaru waited for the woman to address him first so not to step on her toes or become the unintended victim of that purity of hers. Women were fickle creatures to start, but this young one had proven to be quite temperamental. That temperament paired with purity as strong as hers wasn't exactly a comforting combination for a demon. It was best to walk gently upon egg shells.
He was a careful and diligent spy as the little human returned to the camp. Sight averted, but focused on sound. The long grass swayed and brushed against the cotton of her skirt as she walked across the field, growling and grumbling all the while like a cantankerous puppy. She stumbled over something with a colorful curse, wooden sandals clicking dully against rotten beams hidden among the foundation. Then she hefted a log onto the fire—a big log from the sounds of the clatter and her vexed huffing. Air went in through her nose to her lungs, and out through clenched teeth.
He made himself small and inconspicuous, which was a feat considering his size. The great dog general kept his eyes trained to the branch in his hands, to the motion and cleavage of the little blade. Unfortunately his efforts to stay beyond her radar were in vain. His pointed ears tickled when the young woman's direction changed and she started over to where he had hidden himself.
When her scent caught the wind it was more vibrant than usual; musky and floral with strong underlying incense that clung to the hairs inside his nose. The unexpected smell made him sneeze.
Perfume.
A bag fell beside him.
Togashimaru looked at it and then, ever so slowly, he looked up at the human priestess who had dropped it.
If he were a lesser man the knife would have dropped from his hand.
He held it firm.
Instead, he stared. "Oh."
"Don't." Kagome warned him with a glare that made her porcelain powered cheeks look strong and fierce.
"Then I will not."
"Good."
Kagome broke their staring contest to self-consciously tug and smooth the skirts of the kimono jacket that were trailing behind her, splayed and colorful like the fan of a peacock. Her thin figure was hidden beneath at least four separate layers of thick, embroidered brocade. The cuts and designs of the garments were almost as splendid as the ones Izaiyoi had adorned on a daily basis, though not nearly as opulent and rich and with far fewer layers. Her rather short elbow-length hair was done up in an intricate knot of silk flowers and curls, and her face was as pained as it was painted.
If Togashimaru didn't know any better, and if she wasn't shifting her bodice like a farmer awkwardly wearing the full armor of a samurai, he could have believed her to be a true Heian lady. The daughter of a lesser vassal, or perhaps a handmaid. She should have felt regal and refined, as he assumed any woman would while donning clothing far more elegant than what they are accustomed, yet she looked as if she felt anything but.
"I was jumped by a seamstress who'd heard rumors of 'a wealthy young lady in rags.'" Kagome explained to him without meeting his gaze. "I guess I should have found a coin trader and exchanged some of what I had for smaller currency and only carried what I needed. It would have been safer."
Silver eyebrows rose high behind his bangs. "You were burglarized?" Then he took in her outfit again from head to foot. "You were not burglarized."
"Thankfully not. I could have been, though. They really freaked me out." She sounded more frustrated with herself than the women who'd accosted her. She fished her little bag of coin from the bottomless depths of her furisode sleeves—the longest of the kimono sleeves that nearly brushed the ground, indicating her eligibility for marriage. The pouch was significantly lighter. "No, I guess you could say I was given an offer I couldn't refuse. Cho and Mie seemed nice enough, but I could tell but the Mama-san was a true mobster at heart." The young woman offered a strangled laughed at that as if she'd just told some sort of joke.
"Were you overcharged for their services?" He questioned.
"Honestly?" Kagome replied with a shrug and a huff. "I have no idea. I still haven't really figured out this economy yet. I think I got a pretty good deal, considering everything I got. But you tell me. Ten coins would pay for good food and two nights at an inn back in my past, not all this." She gestured to herself and then to the sack that she'd brought him. "Those are for you, by the way. The seamstress' husband is a bit smaller than you, so we had to guess the length. But they should get you through for a while."
The demon held down his wince. He didn't tell the girl that ten of those coins of hers were enough to purchase a small inn, better than stay in one.
She had, in fact, been swindled.
Togashimaru put down his craft and took care untying the satchel to pulled out the topmost garment; it was a haori, made with a heavier thread count, but not too thick as to overheat his naturally higher body temperature.
He grinned when she plopped down unceremoniously beside him, absolutely drowning in her own winterized fabrics.
"This looks like something that my son would wear, if the colors were reversed." He mused, rubbing the maple leaf embroidery that separated the deep maroon body from the lower lengths of the white sleeves. The white strip of the collar cut across the color of the top like a river parting the valleys between burning autumn mountains. A glance in the bag told him that the hakama that went with it were white, much like the ones she had originally found him in.
"Oh yeah?"
Togashimaru folded the garment over his knee. "The boy is fond of nature. Every kimono he has ever had made depicts some form of fauna."
"Aww." Kagome softened and allowed her body to relax. She'd likely been poked and prodded for the hours that she'd been missing while the women took their measurements and crafted their wares. The noble demon knew from experience that dealing with tyrannical seamstresses was always a taxing endeavor, even when it was an expected appointment. "I never would have taken Sesshoumaru for a plant guy."
At that he smirked. "You would have enjoyed seeing him frolic in the gardens as a pup, before he grew such a tough cicada shell. My hair was never without a blossom in those early years. Although, he ate them nearly as often as he picked them. He was quite young."
The last of the day's sun filtered the leaves. Kagome's cheeks dimpled as she giggled at that unexpected morsel. Her face lit right up and the stress that had drawn lines in her eyebrows was erased completely. It warmed his chest to see her mood lifted so easily. She was, as he'd already established, easily pleased.
It made the hard times easier and kept the long days interesting.
The dog demon draped his arm over the haori on his knee and watched her smile grow. "You should see Rin make her flower crowns." She told him, blue eyes glittering like water. "I haven't actually seen Sesshoumaru wear one, but I don't doubt he does when we're not around."
A flower fell and landed in a rippling sea of purple, blue, and green tides.
Togashimaru picked it up. The origami blossom was made from the scrap silks left over from her kimono, as they often were. He spun the pin between his fingers before leaning over to fastening it back into place within her plaited locks. She held very still as he did.
While the girl was still frozen in place, the mighty general fixed one of the curls that had fallen loose with a gentle touch.
Perfect.
"Propriety doesn't suit you." He stated. "However, the outfit itself is very becoming, Kagome."
Feverishly, Kagome blushed and swatted away his hand.
"Don't get used to it." She told him, lips quirked. "I have no clue how they put this thing together."
...
Kagome scrubbed her hair with what little shampoo she allowed herself to use from her pack and leaned back to rise the suds away in the frigid water of the falls. She was beginning to hate that part of her day. Actually, she'd begun to take her baths every other day, even every tree days, as needed. The water was just so darn cold. But it was a necessary evil.
Three days camping outside without a bath was her absolute maximum. It didn't matter if there was ice on the water; she was going to get clean one way or another.
Oh, but what she wouldn't give for sanitized indoor plumbing again.
No. She pushed away that thought and heaved a sigh.
As much as she wanted to be wistful and dream of home, she didn't have the time or energy to waste on fruitless thoughts. She was stuck there, and until she could figure out how to fix the well she would have to just deal with that. The past wasn't new to her; she'd gone on journeys with Inuyasha and the gang for longer. Two, three, sometimes even four months at a time she'd spent in the feudal era without contact with her family. It was a pain, but she knew she was capable of surviving it.
And so far, she wasn't in terrible company, so it wasn't as if she was completely alone in this.
Togashimaru continued to surprise her. He was making more and more progress each and every day. He took short little walks, sometimes even going as far as the Goshinboku, and he'd even started changing his own bandages to gain some independence. He helped with dinner and offered to collect firewood—not that she allowed her patient to pick up anything heavier than kindling.
The old dog actually seemed to be on the mend.
Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Was that according to destiny?
Had she made the right decision to tell him everything?
Kagome shook her head this time. Her wet hair whipped around and stuck to her neck.
Another thought to push down.
A sound along the shoreline made Kagome jump, rocks shifting under the heavy footsteps of a man and branches being pushed away. She splashed down further into the water to hide her modesty before the fisherman's pole came into view and regretted it when a chill ran through her chest and down her spine.
There was nowhere for her to hide. The falls were smaller and not nearly as exposed as they would become in a few hundred years, but still open. It wasn't like the brook further downstream that had its large boulders that could be used to hide behind.
That's what she got for wanting a late afternoon shower.
Inch by inch, Kagome shuffled along the slippery rocks beneath the falls, aiming for the opposite shore where the brush was thicker and untamed. The water was deeper there. The spray of the falls heavier, it threatened to push her from the ledge and into the pool. She could see the man then; he was too preoccupied with the young boy at his side to notice her plight.
Shoulders barely above the water, the embarrassingly bare woman glanced to where her clothing lay folded and hidden behind the tree where the older man had paused to fix his son's pack basket.
Just keep walking downstream, she begged them.
Carefully, Kagome reached out with her toe for the next moss slick stone, but her foot landed in the depths of nothing. She jolted to catch herself on the jagged wall behind the cascading water, but that too betrayed her.
Her arms pinwheeled against the current as she pitched forward, her scream internalized and silent.
A rock scraped her knee. Another from the wall knocked the wind from her lungs. There were lots of rocks there. It was dark, too. Kagome gasped as she scrambled for solid ground. Everything was so slippery. The panic in her chest began to fade when she realized that the water wasn't nearly as high the further forward she went. Then she hit a wall. Kneeling on the roughest rock she could find, Kagome eased herself around.
Sound boomed around her.
Light and water made a thick curtain at the end of the alcove.
A cave. She'd stumbled into a little cave behind the waterfall. It wasn't a very big thing, perhaps twice her height in depth, two meters at its tallest point and barely big enough to squat in towards the very back. Since the floor sloped upwards, the water stopped about halfway in.
Incredulously, the priestess laughed. The very same waterfall that had threatened to bare her naked butt to the world had instead decided to give her shelter. Droplets from cracks in the ceiling landed on her head.
Well perfect, thought Kagome as her eyes adjusted to the space. I'll hide in here until those guys are gone.
However long that would be.
Kagome shivered.
Then she grimaced at the green slime and moss that now covered her freshly washed hair and body.
And then I'll bathe.
Again.
...
Hair finally dry from her spelunking experience, Kagome took a black elastic tie from between her teeth and pulled the thick of it to the top of her head. She could feel the molten gold of Togashimaru's eyes staring at the back of her neck as she looped the tie around once, then twice, until her black locks were tamed into a wild bun.
It wasn't anything close to the intricate hairstyle that the seamstresses had given her, but it pulled the frizzy, over washed strands from her face. It would also take less than an hour to take out, unlike that traditional monstrosity.
The eyes followed her to her backpack.
"What's up?" She asked without turning to look at the demon lord as she unzipped the largest front pocket of her faded yellow bag to replace her brush and other nighttime toiletries.
"Do you have any more of those flexible ribbons?"
"Why?" She snickered. "You want me to put your hair up?"
Unashamed, he replied, "If you wouldn't mind."
Kagome turned to look at him then. The firelight made his silver hair glow like a candle against the black of the forest behind him. "Really?"
Togashimaru shrugged. "It is less intrusive when tied up. When I am more active it will become more of a hassle." He paused before adding in a slightly quieter voice. "Also, I do not enjoy the feel of it on the back of my neck."
"Oh. Okay." She started, not quite sure how to respond to his tone change. "Yeah, sure."
The brush and plastic bag of colorful elastics were pulled again from her backpack. She picked out the only violet tie that didn't have her own hair knotted around it and settled on the lip of the well behind his broad shoulders.
The tie matched the markings on his cheeks.
"High or low?"
"High."
Her small hands gathered the topmost layer of his locks. The spider web strands felt like liquid silk between her fingers. It was a pleasant texture, smooth and soft; satin and velvet were other manmade fabrics that came to mind as she raked through it. Then she touched a spot on his crown where his roots cowlicked.
"Here?"
He hummed assent.
The hook of her knuckle caught a burr, ruining the fluvial illusion of his hair. As ethereal as it was, hair was still hair, and hair as long as his was bound to collect hitchhikers. The priestess ran her brush through it to disentangle the knots.
She tugged.
Togashimaru flinched.
"You okay?" Kagome pulled her brush away.
The dog stiffened before replying, "All things considered, I have been better."
His words were the screwdriver that twisted the corners of her mouth into a taught frown, but she didn't question him further. Instead she continued her work, delicately from end to root to avoid causing him any more pain.
She didn't ask him about the scar at the base of his skull.
...
Togashimaru finished tying a lavender sash around his new maroon and white garments, lit by the motherly embrace of the fat moon. The sleeves were a tad short, but not obnoxiously so, and cinched at his ankles it didn't matter how long the pants were. It was comfortable, with a richly woven texture and crisp folds.
It would have been even more comfortable if he'd had his second skin of armors and furs to go over it. But, unfortunately, they remained in a ruined heap, buried in the woods and well beyond repair.
The armor had been mostly unremarkable and he couldn't have care less about its loss aside from the bareness that he felt without it, but the fur was irreplaceable. At one point in his life, that fur had been his very identity.
His father had given him that pelt when he first proved himself a worthy successor, the fur trimmed from his father's own coat. At that time it had been little more than a simple stole. It had evolved as he grew into higher status and worth, bit by bit, until reaching its ultimate cape-like form at the time of his father's demise.
Back when Togashimaru had claimed the title of Inu no Taisho for himself.
Togashimaru still remembered cutting the hide from the warm corpse, the wounds stinging and bleeding from his own skin.
The dog demon rubbed the ever tender scar where his father's fang had pierced his neck.
That was no longer his identity, he knew. The symbol of the pelt, the power, and titles. They had had died with him when the manor fell fifteen years prior in that very spot.
No. They hadn't defined him for even longer than that.
How long had it been, exactly, since he had become something other than the mighty dog demon general of the Western lands? Since he had met the human princess so dear to his heart? Since his elder son had earned a fur of his own?
Since he had become a father?
Since he had killed his own?
Togashimaru shook his head, the length of his ponytail brushing playfully across the expanse of his back as he liked it. Again he pined for the furs that once covered him, that acted as a barrier between him and the politics of demon society. Whether or not he deserved them or identified with them was not the point.
They were familiar. They were home.
They were comfort.
A soft sigh drew his attention to Kagome.
A huff of air left his own lungs, not quite a snort but also not quite a chuckle.
If if is comfort that I seek, then perhaps I should seek counsel from a true master of the art.
The air was damp with moisture, but the little human slept soundly on her bedroll in her usual spot by the fire pit. More than soundly, under those layers and layers of kimonos, curled up like a jovial flea on the back of a winter hare. It was the best he'd ever seen her sleep, warm and snug, save and content.
She was childlike, and oh so very comfortable.
It was almost a shame that the clouds in the distance were threatening rain.
End Chapter 12
