Chapter One – Heir
The peaceful atmosphere that surrounded Sesshomaru was always something that he welcomed, but his traitorous mind seemed adamant about ruining his contentment.
Unbidden, amber eyes turned in the direction of the old wooden well, and the daiyoukai suppressed the urge to destroy the wretched structure, his fingers twitching with restraint. Oh how he would have enjoyed the feeling of wood splintering underneath his claws. The scent of his acid eating away at the feeble boards would bring some measure of comfort to his growing rage, and yet he could do nothing.
Disgusting.
That's what this was—completely and utterly disgusting. How could he desire to rid the world of something so badly and be unable to do so? Why, in all his long life, did he hesitate to eliminate the thing that caused him such unequalled levels of complete rage? His rebellious mind easily supplied the answer; because she wouldn't be able to come back if he terminated her only way of travel.
His claws dug into the earth beneath him.
Kagome was her name, and she was the one causing such riotous thoughts, disrupting his calm and shattering his picture of perfect peace.
She pranced around in his head, laughing and giggling as she often did in person. That completely inappropriate scrap of green cloth flapped and fluttered in the wind, offering him enticing glimpses of round, creamy buttock and long, slender thighs. His inner beast found no problem with her attire, but he couldn't bear to look at her without wanting to lift a lip in disgust. Of course, her manner of dress was nothing compared to her disrespectful attitude.
She was loud and crass, though not nearly as horrific as his younger brother. She never treated him with the respect that his station called for, nor did she seem to possess a graceful bone in her body—clumsy and uncoordinated, she was almost comical in her repeated attempts to do things as simple as walking or running. She'd stood up to him, refused to die by his hand on more than one occasion, and had even had the audacity to assault his person.
And yet, he was—grudgingly—attracted to her. There was no other word that could describe the feelings he had developed for the feisty little miko. He loathed admitting such a thing, but it was the truth and one such as himself did not lie.
He sighed.
The vibrant blue of her large eyes danced before his mind's eye, and he bypassed his revulsion to inspect her more thoroughly—there were other things about her that called to his inner beast, and it was these things he could safely think of without the physical need to be sick.
She was fiercely protective, and extremely dangerous when threatened. Her sense of honor, unlike her sense of respect, was strong, and he knew that her loyalty was a thing to be in possession of. Even after his hanyou sibling had openly betrayed her time and time again, she remained at his side, determined to right the wrong she'd committed and rid the world of Naraku.
Her task is complete, he mused.
Though Naraku was dead, killed by her own hand almost a year previous, the hanyou had managed to shatter the Jewel yet again, leaving the rag-tag group to once more begin the search for the shards. The onna could have easily gone back to her time and remained there, but yet she still came, the same determination spurring her to complete the bauble a second time.
She is honorable, courageous, and defiant enough to entertain this Sesshomaru for as long as she lives.
His anger left him, and he took a deep, quiet breath, a scent wafting to his nose and leaving him slightly resigned. Her scent, the scent of orange blossoms and moonflowers, came from the well and caused him to recall the soft shape of her lips, the even whiteness of her teeth, and the shining length of her fragrant hair.
The smell of her had always taunted him, even after he'd left her presence and had been away for an immeasurable amount of time. When he was away from her, he could smell her, could hear her laughter and see her pink lips pouting in anger. She was a constant reminder to the fact that he had no mate, no heir, and no legacy except for what was left from his father's time.
Once again thoroughly irritated, the daiyoukai forced his mind away from thoughts of the miko, settling against the tree and basking in the summer warmth.
Sayuri Higurashi fingered the blanket over her legs, feeling the smooth threads slide underneath her fingertips. She was trying not to show the pain she felt, but she could tell that she wasn't doing a very good job—Kagome was watching her worriedly even as she helped her to sit up.
"Here, Mama, drink this."
Gratefully accepting the warm cup of tea offered to her, Sayuri smiled. "Thank you, dear."
The tiny girl, almost a woman now, waved off her gratitude with a delicate hand. "Is there anything else you need, Mama?"
For a moment, Sayuri felt like refusing to do what the kami had demanded in her dream, but the pain intensified, and she took a deep breath, reaching out to the child she'd raised with a shaking hand. "Kagome, dear, I—I have something to tell you."
A frown marred the pretty face, and Kagome nodded, seating herself on the edge of the bed. Sayuri set her cup on the bedside table, reaching up to brush Kagome's bangs out of her eyes. The girl smiled nervously, and Sayuri licked her lips.
"I've watched you grow up into a beautiful young woman, Kagome," she began, smiling at the blush that burst across her daughter's cheeks. "I know that you have so many things that you must do, and I'm so proud of you for what you've already done."
Kagome took the hand that was lying against her cheek, holding it tenderly between her own. "Thank you, Mama."
Sayuri nodded, and then prayed for the strength she needed to make her next statement. "I will always love you, Kagome, you have to remember that, but I—" She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Kagome, I'm—I'm not your mother." Before the shocked girl could respond, Sayuri pushed on, the words coming easily now that the dam had been broken.
"When Ken and I were young, we found out that I was unable to bear children on my own. For a long time, we mourned, but as I was walking through the shrine one night, unable to sleep, a noise in the well house drew my attention. I knew that there shouldn't have been anyone or anything in the building, but I went in anyway, and that's when I realized that the noise was the sound of a crying baby. I found you that night, Kagome, at the bottom of the Bone Eater's Well."
A strangled noise left Kagome's throat. "B—but, Mama, that can't be right," the girl stammered, the color draining from her face.
It pained Sayuri to see the child so distressed, but it was a necessary evil, and Sayuri continued quietly. "I know that it's a lot to take in, dear, but I wouldn't lie to you, not about something so important." She paused, and then licked her lips. "I'm a miko, Kagome, just like my father, and that night, I knew without a doubt that you were a youkai. If the markings on your face and the pressure of your youki weren't enough to convince me of that, then the letter that was with you was all the evidence I needed."
Kagome's face was as white as the sheet Sayuri rested upon, and she swallowed the urge to take back everything she'd said, pushing onward despite the pain in her heart. "I didn't know where you'd come from or how you got into the well house, but I brought you inside, and Ken and I read the letter together. From that moment on, you became our daughter."
A tear slid down Kagome's cheek, and she sniffled, reaching up to wipe it away. Sayuri watched as the courage Kagome was known for seeped into her posture, and the small young woman took a deep breath.
"So, if you and P—Ken aren't my parents, then who are they?" Her voice only wavered a little, but Sayuri knew her well enough to know that she didn't know what to think.
"There is an old, leather-bound book in the top drawer of the dresser. Will you bring it to me, please?" Kagome nodded, retrieving the book and handing it to her. Carefully, Sayuri flipped through the well-used pages, extracting a yellowing sheet of parchment paper. Traces of youki kept the fragile material from tearing or aging too quickly, and Sayuri handed Kagome the sheet, nodding encouragingly at the curious glance. "Read it aloud, dear."
Kagome nodded, and her voice was gentle.
"'To the Miko Sayuri,
I regret this decision with every fiber of my being, but there is no other way—the Seers have deemed it so.
I am sending you my daughter Kagome, heir to the Southern Lands. She is precious to me, but she cannot remain here with me, and so I have decided to send her to you. I know that she will be cared for, loved, and protected from all that may harm her.
I ask that you hide her markings, her youki, with your own reiki. She must live as a human, undetected by all.
When it is time, and when she is ready, she must be sent back to this time to claim her birthright. It will be hard for you, as it is for me, to let her go, but the decision is hers to make, and hers alone. Be aware that if she decides to remain a human and disown her title, the strength it takes for you to permanently purify her youki will kill you.
However, I ask that you allow her to make the choice—I will not have my daughter forced into a fate she does not want.
I must go. Please, take care of my only pup. Convey to her all the love I will no longer be able to give her, and keep her safe.
—Lord Shinosamu of the Radiant Southern Star Tribe'"
Kagome's voice trailed off, and Sayuri waited.
This couldn't be right.
Kagome's thoughts whirled through her head at breakneck speeds, whizzing by too quickly for her to process them. She felt almost lightheaded, her stomach churned, and the parchment shook in her hands, the lines blurring.
She didn't realize that she was crying until a tear landed on the paper, sparking a response from the lingering feel of the youki that fizzled against the page. The reaction startled her out of her jumbled thoughts, and she zoned in on the familiar feel of the youki.
It was like a long lost dream, a recalling of something that had been elusive for as long as she could remember. It caressed her fingertips almost lovingly, and she bit back a sob—Sayuri was telling her the truth, and she knew it.
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. "I—I don't know what to say."
Sayuri shook her head in understanding. "You don't have to say anything, dear. I know that this is a shock for you."
Kagome swallowed. "My father is the Lord of the South in Feudal Japan?"
Sayuri shook her head, but opened the book in her lap and ran her finger down a page until she found what she was looking for. "We found this book shortly after you were sent to us, and the story about the myth of the Southern Star tribe seemed to fit with what your father wrote…He passed away protecting you that night."
Kagome took the book, scanning quickly over the story before looking back up. "And my mother?"
"There is nothing there about her, and we couldn't find any other information." Kagome looked back down.
The words of her father's legend blurred together, and she stopped trying to find any hints of her mother. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, and Kagome swallowed in an attempt to dismiss the butterflies in her stomach. Her father had died protecting her, had sent her to an unknown time in order to save her from an untimely death.
"So I'm a youkai, an inu youkai."
It was a statement, not a question, but Sayuri nodded anyway, and Kagome was suddenly overwhelmed with love for the woman who'd raised her. Throwing herself across the small amount of space between them, Kagome wrapped her arms around the frail woman's neck, breathing in the scent of her favorite perfume.
"Thank you for everything. You didn't have to take me in, didn't have to hide me from the world, but you did, and for that you'll always be my Mama."
Her mind was still reeling, but Kagome knew that she would have all the time in the world to think about what her life was supposed to be like—right now, she needed to focus on what was important.
A small, stifled sob stirred the hair on top of her head, and she pulled away, smiling into the tear filled eyes of her mother. "Is the seal the thing that's been keeping you sick?"
Sayuri nodded. "Your youki has begun to put a strain on the reiki that I've fed into you, fighting against it. You'll be coming of age the day after tomorrow, and I'll be unable to hold the spell for much longer."
Kagome felt the corners of her mouth turn down. She couldn't let her mother keep this up—over the past year, she had been getting sicklier and was now confined to her bed from weakness and an increased propensity for fainting spells. Now, of course, Kagome understood the reasons for it, and she wasn't going to let her mother die because of her.
So you'll throw away everything you've ever known for a woman who lied to you for the first seventeen years of your life?
The whisper came viciously, unbidden and mean. Kagome immediately dismissed it, unable to hold onto it any longer than she already had—Sayuri had lied to her, yes, but it had all been for a good reason.
Kagome took a deep breath.
"I want you to release the seal at midnight tomorrow."
"Kagome, you don't have to—"
"But I do, Mama. I can't let you do this anymore, and I'm not going to give up my birthright." She momentarily nibbled her bottom lip. "I've always felt at home in the Feudal Era, and now I know why."
"Dear, you don't have to make this decision right now," Sayuri murmured carefully, hand grasping at hers. Kagome shook her head.
"I can't let my fears get in the way. After all, how hard can it be to be youkai?"
They shared a laugh, and Kagome leaned forward, resting her head underneath her mother's chin. A frail hand lay on her shoulder, fiddling with strands of her hair just as they did when she was young and sick.
Memories flooded her mind, and Kagome sighed. "I'll miss you, Mama," she whispered, trying with all her might not to cry.
"I'll miss you too, dear. I'll miss you too."
"You've been makin' Mama sick."
Jumping slightly, Kagome looked up to see Souta standing a few feet away, his hands fisted at his sides and his chin touching his chest. For a moment, she didn't know what to say.
"Yeah," she whispered, shivering despite the warm breeze that blew through the courtyard. Souta was silent, but Kagome could see the anger that stiffened his shoulders. She cleared her throat. "But I didn't know about it, Souta."
Her brother shook his head, and Kagome took a step forward, only to stop when he took an equal step backward. Frowning, she stepped toward him again, and his head shot up, brown eyes narrowed angrily.
"It doesn't matter that you didn't know! You made her sick!"
His voice was filled with anger and hurt, and Kagome didn't bother trying to fight back the tears that sprung to her eyes. "Souta, I—"
"How could you! You're supposed to take care of her!"
Kagome opened her mouth, but Souta's tears stopped the words in her throat. He was angry, hurt, and probably confused. Her heart ached for him, and before he could turn and run away, she went forward and grabbed him, holding him to her chest even as he struggled against her.
"Let me go! You stupid traitor! You don't deserve to be called my sister!"
"Souta, stop!" Surprisingly, his struggles ceased, and Kagome tightened her grip on his shaking shoulders, sniffling. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't know about any of it, and I'm going to fix it, okay? I'm going to go back to my real home, and Mama will get better."
Souta's hands clenched at the fabric of her shirt, and he let her hold him for just a few moments before pushing away, fists wiping the tears out of his eyes. She smiled sadly at him, noting that he was still very upset with her.
"You don't have to forgive me right now, Souta, but I hope you do one day." The boy remained silent, and Kagome twisted the hem of her shirt between her fingers. "I'll always be your sister, Souta."
He didn't respond. Kagome turned and walked back inside.
The sun was setting by the time Kagome finally gathered the courage to go back through the well for the last time. She stared around her room, remembering all the things that had happened in the space—slumber parties with friends, staring in the mirror before the junior dance, talking to Inuyasha while he sat in her windowsill. There were so many things that she would be leaving behind, she knew, but she wasn't going to let her sorrow override her willingness to do what was right. After all, her real father had died so that she could live and eventually go back to claim her rightful place as Lady of the Southern Lands. She couldn't let him down, not now.
Everything is going to work out fine, she thought, trying her best to push away the melancholy emotions that threatened to take over. As she left her room, she took one last lingering look at the place she'd spent most of her time. A final deep breath was all she needed to step away from the door, and she wandered slowly down the hall, her heart beating loudly in her ears.
Her mother, grandfather, and little brother were waiting on the front porch, and they began to walk silently to the well house. Kagome felt tears sting at her eyes.
"You've grown into a strong young woman, child," her grandfather said as they stopped outside the building. Kagome bent and pulled the old man into a tight embrace, not minding—for once—the strong scent of mothballs and Ben-Gay. A gnarled hand patted her back, and she sniffled before straightening. "You'll do fine, Kagome, just fine. You weren't born for just any old reason, you know."
She smiled. "Thanks, Grandpa."
Her mother was next, and Kagome was careful to purposefully transfer some of the reiki she possessed back into the frail woman's failing body. Sayuri seemed grateful, and she pulled a necklace out of her pocket, pressing it into Kagome's hands. "This was around your neck when we found you—I think it may have been your mother's."
Momentarily, Kagome inspected the delicate silver star and vibrant sapphire centerpiece, and then carefully tucked it into the front pocket of her backpack, which was stuffed to the brim with undergarments and other necessities.
"Thank you, Mama."
A final hug was bestowed on everyone, including Souta, and Kagome gave them one final look before swinging her legs over the lip of the old well. She glanced over her shoulder. "I'll see all of you again, I promise."
And then she slipped over the edge and away from her old life.
Author's Note: I'm not exactly pleased with this chapter...But let me know what you all think! Thanks for reading!
p.s. - At the risk of not getting what I want, I'll just go ahead and say this...Alerts are wonderful, guys, but reviews are better! Nothing spurs an author like words of encouragement...We're very tentative individuals, writers, and knowing that we've pleased our readers is something that ignites a fire of inspiration under our otherwise lazy rear ends...Don't worry-I'm not going to hold updates hostage or anything. I just thought I'd go ahead and get that out of my system.
Anywho, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed!