Chapter 8

The Crack that Broke the Dam

(A/N: I just want to take the time to thank everyone who's taken the time to read my story. I really appreciate all of you, especially those of you who have followed and favorite this thing. This is the first fanfic I've ever posted on here after being on this site for years. I just ask that you guy please review, even if you hate what I'm doing. The input would make a huge difference in my ability to make this story as good as it can possibly be in my hands. Much love!)

Shinokiri's philosophy on combat was offensive defense. Evasion and attacking from a distance. It had served her well with many an opponent. Her mist. Her naginata. Her claws. The claws were special. They would extend outward…violently, then retract on command. It was versatile. If she was weaponless she could keep her enemies at bay, but if they closed the distance she had that element of surprise.

Stuck in the dark damp viscera of another demon made all of these skills void. She questioned everything and could barely justify being there as soon as she found herself in this predicament that she had willingly…adamantly put herself in.

Her claws only served as entertainment. Every so often she would stab the beast from the inside, varying the depth of the wounds. It was cruel, but her only comfort when left so long to her own devices.

She thought back to Inu no Taisho instructing her. Explaining everything. Someone to protect…

It certainly never would be her. Frankly, it was more likely she'd need protection from Sesshomaru, rather than to be protected by him. Ever.

It was likely she'd end up dying inside Kogane. Her self-destructive need to please. Really…where was her protection? She had become an obedient sacrificial lamb. Did Inu no Taisho have faith enough in his son to complete his wishes before she died, or was she expendable enough for it not to matter?

She thought back to the cold and shivering Izayoi with her babe bundled in her arms. Barely out of the nefarious purview of the snow's withering embrace. Waiting for nothing. Was this what she felt like? So unsure of everything she had ever done leading up to this second.

Shinokiri busied herself in understanding the Oto no Joka Kabe…if anything to pass the time.

"Rin, I trust that you can do this."

The little girl looked nervously up at her, trying not to fidget lest it disturb the instrument on its stand. There was a deliberate effort in everything being still. Rin took deep, burdened breaths in order to steady herself.

"The louder you play, the further the wall spreads. The pace of the attack determines the pace of your play."

Shinokiri's stance lacked the sureness it once had. She had only just learned to be on her feet again. There was trust there, however, she chose to blindly trust the girl wouldn't put her in remission. Like a sword her arm was outstretched; claws to the limit of their reach. She waited at the other end of the meadow, as A-Un stood watch.

Rin stretched her tiny hands and hovered two fingers fitted with pick over the stings. Gently, back and forth she varied between two notes crescendo'ing at a creaking pace. Louder and louder until sparks flew from the demoness' claws as they began to whittle down in length. Rin, being conservative stopped with a comfortable extension left from the tips of Shinokiri's fingers. The grass was singed, marking the distance between the two.

"OOOooooh"

Rin's eyes widened with wonder.

"I am proud of your restraint."

"What if I want to protect someone with me?"

Protect. The word always left a ringing in the youkai's ears.

"Then they must be touching you."

Rin nodded in comprehension.

Gently, she put the koto away. She would only incrementally use it for now until she was truly confident in her control. The enchanted silk covering was the only insurance against the slightest tremor causing disaster. She strapped it to the saddle of A-Un in a finality that cause some relief. Rin had no desire to push any boundaries as yet.

Satisfied, the two started back toward the village in tranquil companionship. Contentment rang on their faces, even as Shinokiri moved with a noticeable laborious wobble, but made no allowance for help—not even to lean on the great beast accompanying her.

Soon she would be free of her own limitations. Through it all, she decided, she must go. No matter how much she wanted to touch Sesshomaru once more. No matter how much her heart swelled when she shared a quiet peaceful moment with Inuyasha. Inside that snake, she knew, she could no longer be a pawn. A dead demon's wish had gone too far. She had maintained the value of her word…she followed through, but at what cost to herself? To what gain? Another attachment to a weak child? She needed to enact self-preservation, her instincts were off in this. It had to change. She had been a pawn to the benefit of other's desires for her entire life…but no matter what, none of hers had been truly fulfilled. Not even by the esteemed Inu no Taisho.

Too many allowances had been made. She was stuck in the consequences of her own self-neglect. And it took being sedentary first inside Kogane and now in this human village—it took over a century to fully sink in what she had allowed to be done with her.

The great compassionate ruler. She scoffed, and a burning had begun to form in her eyes.

"Shinokiri-sama?"

The little girl looked up at her in concern. She had managed to tarnish her moment of peace with the human child. So, with that, she shook the thoughts from her head, emptying herself to complete the day.

Shinokiri collapsed to the ground, field of wildflowers. Rin giggled and followed suit and the pair looked up wistfully at the clouds. Their outing would not end as yet, it seemed. The elder gave a soft smile to the younger as the younger clung on to her waist. Rin was such a sweet affectionate child, and Shinokiri indulged her though rarely encouraged her in this. The girl truly enjoyed the quiet approachable nature of the mononoke. Always letting things happen to her, interactions, without protest—without a single word.

The demoness returned her attentions to the sky. The clouds seemed to taunt her in how freely the moved away, off to the fascination of another gaze of another restless soul far away. Perhaps, they too had the gurgling resting noises of a two-headed dragon soothe them into a dream-like state.

In the meantime, Rin had taken to showering petals over her chaperone. She delighted in the elegance of them floating downward, kissing Shinokiri's face and hair without the notice of the youkai. The pale yellow petals stood out in the gray and navy of her person, and Rin basked in the picture she had created: a memory to keep with her on gloomier days; colder days; days when the warmth of the sun was obscured by fog and wind and gray.

Rin swept the petals from her companion's face in quiet amusement. Shinokiri slowly closed her eyes and let the little one trace her markings and brush her hair aside. She slowly closed her eyes in a melancholic way, still enjoying the soft touch of the curious girl. Children held in them a divinity that seemed to wash away the aching of Shinokiri's longing. Longing for anything. It was quite possible that it was because she saw in them a hope she coveted for in herself.

Shinokiri could sense first the approach of Sango. She did not mind the woman at all. A noble person in her manner and the dignity with which she always carried herself despite the insufferable wandering eye of her husband. Love. Loyalty. Sango had with her an accompaniment of three others. It was Inuyasha, a human boy and a cat demon.

Rin jumped up, "Kohaku! You've come to visit."

"Oh, Shinokiri-hime. I hope we didn't bother you. We can go another way."

"Stay."

She slowly got up to acknowledge those new in her presence.

"So, what? Don't tell me you two are sitting out here doing nothing."

Inuyasha half joked as Shinokiri closed an eyelid in humor to look at him. She stretched her arms to lean on behind her.

"Shinokiri-hime! This is Sango's brother, Kohaku. He used to travel with me, and Jaken, and Sesshomaru-sama along with Kirara!" Kohaku gave a small bow in acknowledgment, as the small cat demon danced across his shoulders. He was a demon slayer.

"Were you not a demon slayer as well Sango? I heard of your impressive talents quite a bit from inside Kogane."

Sango nervously chuckled. "Yeah, I was." Anyone could hear the tinge of regret in her voice at using the past-tense.

"She was one of the best in our village…the youngest to be considered an expert," Kohaku offered, thinly veiling a prideful boast.

"Yes—but of course, children…" Sango gulped a bit.

"Your choice."

Inuyasha was growing annoyed with the topic at hand.

"It is a worthy sacrifice."

Shinokiri believed in what she just said though many females had no such agency. She firmly believed that women like Sango had worked for the right to pass on their bloodline. It was only a further honor and credit to them. Sango should have no shame in passing her greatness on at the cost of her own activity. Though it was fair to miss it, there was not much choice in the matter. Regardless of deserving children or not, once you had them they were paramount in precedence. A female never had much choice in the matter. 'Choice', that was a concept reserved for males.

"Speaking of children, poor Miroku must be suffering being left alone with them," Sango joked.

"Your kids are probably bearing the brunt of all the suffering in that situation," Inuyasha countered.

"I wish you'd slow down on having them."

Not much jest could be heard in Kohaku's voice. One could suppose he missed having exclusive access to his sister.

"You know, Kohaku…Shinokiri-hime is Lord Sesshomaru's wife. Remember when we met his mother?"

"Ha, yeah."

They must have been referring to the trials of the Meido stone. It would have had to have happened. Yes. Kohaku retold the whole thing, and it left Shinokiri rattled and uneasy. Compassion. She had learnt that Sesshomaru, on many other occasions, had put extreme effort into recovering or preserving this small human's life. The lives of everyone around her, even the pathetically obsequious Jaken. Though if she though hard, her service to Inu no Taisho was not dissimilar to Jaken's service to Sesshomaru. It was very similar in fact.

Yes, she might as well admit it to herself. I'm pathetic.

Still, where was her compassion? Where was all that was owed to her, as much of her life she had put into duty and faithful service? Where was all she was promised? Inu no Taisho had lost faith in her. She was a failure; a disappointment. That's why she was relegated to that stinking spewing cell. She should have been the source of all that was required of Sesshomaru.

Instead, it was Rin. She was the one he learned to protect. The object of his affection and compassion. It was still in question, but maybe she'd grow to be the one to give him heirs, to warm his bed.

She should have provided him with something to protect…heirs. She should have been his confidant. The one he gave gentle glances to. The one he held close to him. The one he struggled to keep a hold of.

Where was the compassion for me? What is my purpose in this all?

She dare not look at Rin now. It would not be fair to either of them. Rin could not now of these feelings. Such a burning formed in every pore of her. A feverous splashing of emotions inside.

Inuyasha reached out to her, seeing how strange her posturing was. Shinokiri shrugged him off abrasively and Inuyasha immediately regretted bothering to care. It was this again, always this. As he knew would happen, the youkai lady, to the mounting confusion of everyone else, stumbled upward. Forcing all of her strength into her legs and dug into a forward motion…she quickened moving beyond what her potential should have been.

"Shinokiri-hime?"

Rin called out as the gap between them grew bigger. She began to realize that she was headed out of the clearing into the woods. Kirara and A-Un stiffened in the heaping tension.

What is my place in this life? She had to leave, it had to be now. She could waste no more time in thinking her deeds would get her anything in this realm of existence. Waiting, she came to grips with in that moment, would not only be the theme of her life but her downfall.

Shinokiri's thoughts slid into a painful abyss.

"Shinokiri-hime!"

Rin grew increasingly concerned. Kohaku looked around in helpless confusion to Sango for answers. Helpless, she turned to Inuyasha. He groaned and got up, stomping off back to the village.

"Should we go after her Inuyasha?"

Rin turned her full attention to the hanyou waiting for his reply to Sango's inquiry.

"Forget it you guys. Don't bother. If she comes back then, whatever…just get used to it Rin, I mean you should be used to this bullshit already anyway."

He immediately regretted his insinuation of the parallel in the unreliability of her two inuyoukai idols. In a panic Rin got up to run after Shinokiri, quickly getting lost in the accumulating mist. The trees began to blur into one another. Inky blotched lines on a pallid obscured palette. One thing merging into the next, starting before the other finished. She could hardly see her hands before her face.

The impermanence of everything can be surmised in listening to the withdrawing and landing of waves on a shore. The sound gave one an unspoken understanding; an unexplainable one. The knowledge sat within one wordlessly—without any semblance of any language.

Without opening her eyes, Shinokiri could see the imprint of her mate's visage. She felt him there beside her, in the open, in the snow, by the ocean. In all of the loss perhaps there would be something new. Finally. Her life's purpose.

Sesshomaru had lost control and taken her in a way that ensured the promise of an heir. She would prove the worth in her existence to herself with the completion of this, but it had been initiated. She would be a mother. A mother to great leaders. To legends. She could feel it within her. Perhaps, only a figment, but she could feel it growing, becoming the nexus of her dreams.

Her lord pressed himself into her neck. They each dwelled in a world of each other's scent. Neither had forgotten the dire sadness of the lingering situation above their heads. But maybe, Shinokiri thought, maybe there is hope…

They both lay there face to face, and when Shinokiri allowed her eyes to open she sensed a shift in him. Sesshomaru slowly used his weight to get her on her back and pin her there. Shinokiri tried to adjust the position to no avail.

"My lord?"

"I was careless."

Shimokiri's eyes darted about, searching, trying to find understanding in the eyes staring coldly down at her.

"Sesshomaru-sama?"

"It cannot be. It is not my will. It is not my choice."

Shinokiri began to panic and struggle against him. She felt his hand slip tightly between them, parallel to her womb.

"No, my lord please."

It was a strange thing, indeed, to see a demoness of Shinokiri's stature cry. She did, though. For the first time in her own memory. Not even when it came into her understanding that she had been abandoned did she cry. Yet, there she was an accomplished warrior, sage and strong, choking on tears. The veins in her temples bulged out as her face grew red with strain.

"Please, my lord, please, no…"

She sounded hoarse, her crying primal.

Sesshomaru grappled to keep his grip on her steady. He ignored her repetitive pleading, the echoing and vibrating of her agonized weeping against his chest.

"You will not die, but it cannot live."

She felt it. The radiant green of poison burning through her. From deep within her flowed a ghastly unearthly bellowing of such all-encompassing grief as to set one's teeth on edge.

Shinokiri set her weight against the trunk of a tree, deep within the forest. She lay all of her burdens on it, weakened by all she had buried in the depths of her heart. As if to not slip from the very earth she dug her claws into the very center of the layers of bark. It would feel what she felt. Utterly ruining any chance of the great and established structure of surviving. Sliding down, slicing through all of those years of life lived in one spot, Shinokiri landed at its roots. Separating one had from its bowels she transferred it to the bottom of her abdomen. Such a base and wooden sound came croaking from her. There would be no warmth today: no breath nor life.

There would be no warmth today: no breath nor life.