CHAPTER START

Sesshomaru awoke that morning to the familiar sounds of sword practice. The light scuff of rhythmic footwork, the swish of metal slicing the air, and deep even breathing nearly lulled him right back to sleep.

Nearly.

He shook of the lethargy like a dusting of snowflakes and meandered outside in search of the woman that must be the source of the sounds.

He found her just fifteen paces toward the rising sun,

The art of swordsmanship has been described in words of awe and beauty by countless writers, poets, and moon struck students since its beginnings. Sesshomaru, was a firm believer that the practice was firstly, the skill of taking life, and not inherently a thing to be idealized in aesthetic. But he new that a level of mastery and control could be achieved that skirted the realm of mortal perfection - of elegance. It was a level he himself strived for.

Aiko's kata was exquisite.

The movements flowed from her sword in splashes of flicks and spins, her feet beating a tattoo on the stones beneath them. They streamed one into another so smoothly they appeared effortless yet possessed an undeniable fierceness that sent white hot ripples across her ki - tongues of fire on the surface of a glass-calm lake.

Sesshomaru resolved to observe her practice, perhaps more for his own satisfaction than for the practicality that would come from knowing her skills.

After her second run through of the motions under his analytical gaze, Sesshomaru experienced what could only be the most eerie case of déjà vu in his many days.

He knew this kata.

He had seen it countless times as a pup, performed it countless time as he grew. His father had taught it to him. The Waking Dawn, he had called it. It was a kata of his own design, meant to rouse the senses and heighten the connection between the spirit and body. Sesshomaru's father opened every single day's practice with it without fail, and insisted his son do the same.

Sesshomaru watched Aiko perform it a third time. It was indeed the very same kata.

It fit her differently than it did him or his father. Like how once identical pairs of zori worn by different travelers over many miles will form distinctively around the unique feet they carry.

Aiko's movements resolved slightly differently the he was used to, her sweeps were a touch wider, her dips leaning more to the left than the right. But the resemblance was unmistakable in each action. Each action, except . . . was it?

Yes it was.

"Your footwork is wrong."

Aiko stopped. She turned to him.

"What?"

Sesshomaru closed the gap between them by a few paces but did not repeat himself.

Aiko rested the hand not griping her sword on her hip and eyed him with a lit gaze. Not offended, but challenging.

"Where, if you don't mind me asking, did you perceive the error?" She wrapped the phrase with a jesting emphasis. She knew she had done it right.

And Sesshomaru knew she had done it wrong.

"Two beats after the third swing. Your instep should take a turn left and back of your sword arm before the forth swing resolves. Yours remains parallel and moves outward."

Aiko's lip twitched in an almost-grin. "You sound like my Sensei."

Sesshomaru lifted an eyebrow and waited for her to continue.

"He would always fuss about that step. Well, when I say 'fuss' I mean he would tell me flat out that I was wrong."

Aiko gave the Taiyoukai an appraising look. "You remind me a lot of him, actually."

"I see you haven't learned from his chastisement either."

"The kata stance assumes you will be blocking and attack from eye level. Which would be correct if I was, say, your height. But, more often than not, because of my diminutive figure I block attacks from above. It's an adjustment. Not an error." Aiko turned from him and performed that kata once more, this time moving from the last step into a defensive stance for an attack coming from above her head.

"That movement is practiced in many other kata. It is unnecessary to alter this one."

Aiko nearly huffed. She had been in this argument so many times. "This is more efficient. It works more muscle groups and builds a more practical skillset."

Sesshomaru narrowed his eyes at her. "You must have been quite the rebellious student."

Aiko shrugged "Not particularly. I just can't abide continuing to do something the same way for the sake of tradition if there is a better alternative."

"Who taught you these steps?"

It could have been Aiko's Imagination but the edge in his voice felt just a bit sharper than it had a moment ago.

"My Sensei, obviously. You wouldn't have heard of him." She said offhandedly.

"I find that hard to believe. My Father designed the kata. Your Sensei must have learned it from him."

Aiko lips parted in a small "Oh." She blinked rapidly a couple of times before relenting. "His name is Matsudo. But . . ." She turned from Sesshomaru's gaze and crossed her arms over he chest. "Well, the thing is . . . he hasn't been born yet."

There was a pregnant pause.

"Explain."

Aiko worried her lip a moment before she began.

"I was born nearly 500 years into the future." Aiko absentmindedly wrapped a lock of her long hair around her fist as she began. She was starring at the ground, eyes seeing something that was not in the grass but far away and long yet to come. "I came to this time much the same way Kagome did." Her eyes flicked upward to him briefly. "She has told you about her own origin, yes?"

Sesshomaru nodded once in affirmation. Truthfully he had never been wholly convinced of the miko's claims, though he had given her the benefit of the doubt. She certainly was an unusual female.

"Kagome and I have been friends since long before she started making trips here. We went to the same primary school and I lived near her family shrine. When she started effectively disappearing for weeks on end and feeding everyone excuses full of gaping holes, I got worried. Unfortunately, I assumed the worst. Everything from drugs to sex trafficking crossed my mind at one point or another." Aiko chuckled darkly and shook her head. "I should have been more trusting. But I was curious and prone to overreaction. Like most adolescents. I remember being especially disgusted with her family who seemed to be perpetuating everything."

Aiko began walking back toward the house. Sesshomaru followed. He noticed she appeared to be having trouble remaining composed. She kept fidgeting; dragging her fingers across her hair, twisting them in her clothing, scratching at the wrap on her sword hilt.

"But." She shrugged and appeared to come back to herself. "You don't need to know all of that. The important thing is, I followed Kagome one day. I saw her disappear down the well, gargantuan yellow backpack and all. For some reason I didn't even hesitate in jumping down after her."

They reached the house, but Aiko passed by it. Choosing instead to head for a large willow leaning on the bank of the river that flowed through the bathhouse. They passed through the curtain of leaves and Aiko propped her back against the thick, rippling trunk. She suddenly looked more relaxed there, like she was drawing comfort from the contact. Sesshomaru supposed she might be. He suddenly wondered how many conversations she was having that he couldn't hear.

She closed her eyes and continued.

"It was a one way trip. The well let me follow her through to this side. But I couldn't go back. I was stranded." She exhaled heavily and peered up at the sunlight glinting through the leaves. "That was both thirty years ago and four hundred and twenty-three from now. Chances are, my Sensei learns The Waking Dawn from one of your descendants, or at least a descendant of a student you take on in your lifetime."

Sesshomaru nodded in understanding. But then a something occurred to him.

"Could you not teach it to someone and make your Sensei, and in turn yourself, your own successor?"

Aiko looked, directly at him for the first time in several minutes and grinned. "I like the way you think." She paused for a moment. "I suppose it would have to be someone tall if that alternate step is removed."

"Or perhaps you see the error of your ways and choose to remove it yourself in the future." He had the barest hint of a smirk lifting his cheek. And, was that mischief glinting in his gold irises!?

Aiko shot him a withering look. "Not gonna happen." She scoffed. "You really are so much like my Sensei."

"He must have been a respectable and wise teacher."

Aiko shrugged then nodded. "He was."

Sensei had pushed her harder than anybody else had dared. Aiko was a fast learner and most other teachers let her be as self-directed as she wanted. But not sensei. He seemed to have this sixth sense of where her breaking point was and would drag her to the cusp of it quickly and often. Aiko had respected him to the point of near fear.

She also frequently wanted to rip his face off.

"He was also stubborn as a mule and had a streak of self-assured jackassery wider than Mount Fuji."

Sesshomaru's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his bangs. "You sound as though you have been speaking to my little brother."

Aiko laughed. The sound crinkled her nose and shook her shoulders as it flitted into the air. "Even Inuyasha gets some things right."

Sesshomaru probably should have felt insulted but, somehow, the thought didn't occur to him. Maybe his self-absurdness protected him from such things, or maybe Aiko's merriment was so infectious it overrode the response. Either way, Sesshomaru was beginning to feel lighter than he had in some time.

"You've done well for being a woman out of her own era."

Aiko cast her eyes in the direction of her little house even though the thick willow leaves blocked any potential view. "Actually, if you think about it, I've lived nearly twice as long here as I did in the future. I would probably feel more out of place there if I did make it back at this point."

"Why didn't the well let you back through? It's my understanding that Inuyasha was able to make the journey on more than one occasion."

Aiko lowered herself to the ground at the base of the tree and motioned for Sesshomaru to have a seat next to her. "If you want to." She mumbled. "I find this place relaxing."

Sesshomaru joined her. It was a lovely little hideaway. The curtained branches of the old willow rocked gently in the breeze. The late morning sunlight fell in dappled hues across everything in the enclosure. He had sought out places like this as a pup. Places to waste the day away from chores and responsibilities. Small bubbles veiled from reality. Rin used to have a knack for discovering them as well. If it wasn't for his sensitive nose it would have been nearly impossible to find her on a myriad of occasions.

"I don't know." Aiko confessed this quietly. Almost like sharing a secret. "We theorized that Inuyasha was able to cross the dimension because of the subjugation beads and Kagome's connection to them." She steepled her fingers and rested her elbows on her crossed legs in a contemplative pose. "It's hypothetically possible my powers are what let me through in the first place." She shook her head "But I don't think so. When my powers are pulled on I can feel it. I could even back before I began my training. Like how you can feel your fingers gripping a brush when writing. But there was nothing like that back then. If anything, I remember feeling entirely helpless and nauseous. And I couldn't breathe like my lungs were being squeezed by iron clamps that kept getting screwed tighter. I was actually unconscious when I arrived. I woke up to Kagome screeching and Inuyasha swearing at anything that came into view, including me."

Sesshomaru 'hn'ed knowingly. "My little brother makes unorthodox first impressions."

"Well, I wasn't exactly tame, myself back then either. He got his own earful as soon as I had my wits about me. I can assure you that." Aiko made an odd twisting motion in the air with her fingers suddenly before she continued. "We tried everything we could think of to return me to the other side - jewel shards, my magic, Kagome's magic – our subjugation beads theory got a huge hole punched in it when that didn't work for me. The nausea and suffocating was worse sometimes than others but each time I was left unconscious and still in 1543." She saw Sesshomaru's eyes narrow slightly in confusion. "Sorry. Tenbun 12. I always forget the calendar conversion." She made another motion in the air in front of her: this time horizontally from left to right with her palm open and facing the earth.

"And you have no other theories?" Sesshomaru couldn't help but believe she was holding something back. The feeling was a gentile tug in the back of his mind.

Aiko's eyes cut to him and then away swiftly once. "Nothing that makes any kind of sense." She tilted her head slightly, Like she'd heard something far off. Sesshomaru had heard nothing but his attention immediately shifted to the area outside the willow tree.

Aiko clenched her fist and pushed it slowly out in front of her. She frowned and did it again with a bit more force. After the third time she stood up.

"Excuse me." Her body was tensed; her hand hovered over the hilt of her sword as she walked through the leaf-curtain of the willow. "But I have something to take care of."

CHAPTER END


Hi, uh. Long time no see? *sigh* ¯\_(ツ)_/¯