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Strangled Time

Chapter 41

With each passing step Togashimaru could feel his body dragging slower and slower along. Only when it felt as if there were millstones tied to ropes about his ankles did the dog demon realize that he may have over exerted his energy by training Kagome that afternoon.

Did he regret doing so?

Absolutely not.

The young woman was a quick learner, if stubborn as an imp, and was a pleasure to teach despite her utter lack of respect towards a master of the martial arts. Yet that only added to the fun of it. There were no formal expectations or limitations beyond the bounds that he himself made clear in their sets. Togashimaru did not show her things in the order of which they were intended to be taught, instead he handpicked the movements and forms that would best accentuate her small frame, level of strength, and agility.

He did not have the time to pass along the entirety of his knowledge to the child, he knew, so he needed to make due by selecting and thoroughly imprinting only that which would most benefit her future endeavors. While she may never need to wholly rely on a blade as she fought beside his sons in the future, it was always preferred to have multiple options and proficiencies in one's arsenal.

The thought of her being a stand-in for Inuyasha, the youngest he'd never had the opportunity to train, had not even crossed the General's mind. Because, life debt aside, he wanted to train the priestess. She was a good young woman. He wanted to see her grow stronger and even more capable than she already was. He wanted to see her bloom.

As they currently were… Well, Kagome was able to grip and swing her blade without crippling her own form—which alone was far more than the blacksmith could boast of his bowmanship.

Togashimaru sucked in a breath when they started up a steeper incline and the itch of his stitches stung back to the forefront of his senses like a razor slicing along his spine. His breath was heady. Noticing his difficulty, Kagome attached herself to his side and took his arm. Small fingers enclosed securely above his elbow where they were once unable to completely circle the bulk of his bicep.

He was growing thinner—becoming ever more the vision of a living wraith.

Soft and kind as she was firm, Kagome didn't comment on it. She only suggested that they call it quits for the night so that they could get a good rest.

Embarrassed by his weakness but not too proud to admit defeat, the once mighty General conceded and allowed the small priestess and her pet of a blacksmith to aid him up to the top of the ridge where they would make their night's camp against the backdrop song of hooting owls and the slow, sobering fall of snow.

…

Saburo scowled at the bow and arrows he'd just set to the side of their new, empty fire pit. The stick mocked him, making the bruise on his arm twinge. Across the narrow patch Kagome was tying up her pink picnic blanket to make a sort of shelter and further still was the dog demon. Barely half propped against his tree, his eyes were closed tight with exhaustion. The beast was worn to the bone, his breath ragged and pains casting angular shadows on his face.

Togashimaru was weak, trusting within the care of his warrior priestess, and impossibly vulnerable.

Clenching his jaw, the blacksmith roughly rubbed the hairline at his temples before calling out for a temporary escape. "I'm gonna go get th' firewood."

"'Kay." Kagome replied, not looking away from her work as she reached up on her tippy toes. "Be careful out there, the ground is getting slick."

"Sure thing, Miss Kagome."

On the demon's insistence their path had taken a detour up the edge of a small mountain to avoid the long winding road through the valley below. That road would have added two more days to the trip, and really so far Togashimaru was navigating the outcroppings of stones well enough, so Kagome allowed it. Saburo was quick to learn how to spot which rocks were safe to step on and which ones were loose in the soil. The scattered pine trees helped to keep things in place, and they also made for great handholds through the rougher bits of ground. He'd gotten good enough navigating the forest that it wasn't all that hard for Saburo to backtrack down to the flatter area all on his own, to where the woods grew more dense and voluptuous—more fertile for firewood.

Hammer tucked in safe at his side, the blacksmith ran the pad of his calloused thumb down its cold metal before pulling instead a thin little dagger from the folds of his belt. It was a pitiful thing compared to the grand weapons of the kitsune Yuugo's shop, but it was his and its blade was sharpened to a deadly edge.

Saburo's grip on the hilt tightened. His wrist was shaking, so was his arm. Then there was a sudden taste, like the smell of hot iron at the kiln, and the man realized he'd bit open the inside of his cheek. Registering the pain in his mouth and in his clenched fingers that'd gone white, Saburo let the tension in his body slip away.

He fell slack.

He wasn't going to be able to do it, was he?

Saburo wasn't a fighter, that much was obvious; he'd made a fool of himself with the bow and well before that, as a teenager, he'd made an even bigger fool of himself with the sword. But he'd been determined. It should have been such an east task—the damn dog was a feeble fawn with a target literally painted to his chest. The monster would fall quickly, even against such inexperienced hands. And yet…

And yet Saburo could only find pity where his hatred once burned like a scarlet funeral pyre.

Saburo was not a grand hero, nor was he a murderer; he was simply a blacksmith.

Fist clenched once more around the raw wood of the dagger's hilt, the brawny human man chucked the blade into the forest in an impulsive rush of anger. He bellowed with it, the sound loud and unfiltered coming from the deep barrel of his chest. Birds scattered, squirrels scurried, small clumps of snow that had started to gather on the branches above him fell.

And in return from the thicket there was a wet, terrified wail that sounded freakishly human.

…

"It's a serow!" Kagome cried with glee as the prideful blacksmith paraded into camp with the body of his kill draped over his broad shoulder. "Saburo, you caught a serow!"

Togashimaru glared at the deceased goat-like creature as if it had done him a great disservice. He felt personally offended that the bumbling human had managed to catch prey accidentally, while he sat unable to do so much as help build the fire.

"What should I do with it?" The man asked, all smiles and teeth and not at all caring that there was a strip of animal blood dripping down his backside. "Should we be guttin' it here?"

Kagome shook her head swiftly, rightly correcting the blacksmith before he could set his beast down. "No, no way. You should never guy things at camp. Not unless you want bears in your bed."

Saburo's gulp gave Togashimaru a tiny clover of solace. It proved the man to still be soft and fallible.

"S-so where?"

Kagome was quick to dig her hunting and cooking supplies from her pack before bounding over to pull her blacksmith along by the arm. "There was that little brook we passed with the waterfall back down the hill, remember? That should be a far enough place." Then, as if remembering him at the very last second before crossing the threshold of their camp, she turned to the dog demon. "Toga, I'm going to take Saburo down the hill to show him how to clean his serow. Think you'll be okay up here?"

Nodding, Togashimaru didn't look back at her. "I may take a walk."

Kagome slowed to twist her lips, but then deemed it acceptable. "Alright, but don't wander too far. Do you want me to save anything for you? Hide? Hooves? Skull?" The human man made a disgusted noise from behind her.

His answer was curt. "No." Then more gently, the General replied. "You may dispose of them. But I thank you for your offer, Kagome."

Very pleased with his answer, the priestess waved and started back down their deer path the same way that Saburo had just returned from. "We'll be back, then! Holler if you need anything!"

He did not holler.

As soon as the human pair had disappeared completely from both sight and sound, Togashimaru found his walking stick and rose to unsteady feet. Beneath the cruel grip of his claws the carved crow earned a few new splintered punctures.

Allowing his more negative emotions to get the better of him and take charge of his movements, the demon stalked as best he could away from their newest campsite and into the opposite direction. The day's light dying on his back and painkillers clattering in his sleeve, the wounded warrior felt confident in his ability to release his pent up aggression and return to the fire well before the priestess had finished teaching Saburo to skin the goat.

Surely the blacksmith first needed to learn which edge of the blade was sharp, andthat alone would grant him ample time enough.

Through the pines the falling snow began to pick up in thick flurries, as if the very skies above had been influenced by the drastically foul shift in his mood. But fortunately for Togashimaru, at that moment the chill of the cold was not something that he was capable of feeling.

…

"He should be back by now." Kagome paced to the edge of the rock clearing and then back to the fire pit.

With only a quick glance to the priestess, Saburo fixed into the ground the thick, y-shaped branches that were going to hold up their spit. He'd nearly thrown up while watching the little lady cut the skin from the animal, and if he looked hard enough he swore he could still see the blood on her hands. It was surprising, though, how much smaller the serow had become without its fur.

"Could it be he just wants to be alone?" Saburo asked. Touch of concern surprising him because it wasn't entirely faked this time.

"Maybe." Kagome replied, squinting into the darkness. It wasn't long before she was stepping past the blacksmith to her bag where she began to strap the bow and quiver to her back.

Saburo sighed and spun. "Don't ya think you should be givin' him a little space, Miss Kagome? He's a grown man and you've been hoverin' at him fer weeks now like a mother hen. Let him be a while longer ta lick his wounds. He's good 'n trained; he'll come back once he's worked himself out."

He shrunk small under the protective glare she slapped him with when she turned back to face him.

"If it were you out there, maybe. I'd let you wander your heart out. But this is Toga, and I'm going after him." She said, her tone too tight for argument. Then she stood still for a moment with her eyes closed—probably performing some magical wonder that Saburo couldn't see—before picking her direction and slipping off into the dark of night.

"Miss Kagome!" The large man called out after her like a child. He didn't want to be alone in the woods in the dark. Scrambling to his feet, Saburo quickly hooked their meat over the flames to cook and skittered after her. "Miss Kagome, wait up!"

Unsteady ground threatened to slip and give beneath his heavy steps; the earth was softer and wilder in that direction, but soon enough Saburo was able to catch up to the lithe young woman. Snowflakes chunky in clumps tried to cling the bangs before his face, only to melt in tracks down his smooth jaw. He wiped away the liquid and fell into step beside Kagome. She didn't look up at him when he announced himself. She was too focused on the tracks in the thin carpet of white-dusted mud at her feet.

It was amazing that she'd been able to spot the footprints in the first place, since the sky above was choked with clouds to near blackness.

At a small drop, Kagome used a tree for balance to step down. Saburo used the same tree; his hand gripped a spot much higher than hers had. When he pulled away his palm was damp, only not a rain sort of damp, it was a sticky sort of damp that made his skin crawl.

If Kagome had noticed the blood, she hadn't commented on it.

He wiped it on his pants.

Suddenly the priestess stopped. Arm belting across his chest, she blocked his path while he was distracted.

"Do you feel that?" She asked, voice firm.

She was in battle mode.

Saburo froze. The only thing he felt was the girl beside him and the ice-snow pelting down on his head and ever thickening globs of wet slush.

But then came an ear bleeding roar that shook the ground.

That he felt.

"Toga!" Kagome screamed.

In what could only be described as an act of complete, light burning insanity, the small woman pulled the bow from her back and sprinted, not away from, but towards the terrifying sound.

Saburo was helpless to stop her.

"Kagome!"

She didn't turn back or slow. So, after a long moment's hesitation, Saburo pulled the hammer from his belt and followed.

Chapter End