A Distant Promise – Drabble #15

Happily ever after.

That was the way fairytales were supposed to end. And at first, it seemed like their story had ended well. After she left the feudal era, Sango and Miroku married and had several children. As promised, Shippo remained behind to guard the village, living many happy years with his guardians. Sango never did rebuild the demon-slayer's village, but her skills helped already existing communities grow and prosper.

But there were dark parts to the tale too. Miroku suffered phantom pains in his hand, even after the curse on his palm had been lifted. Kohaku eventually left the village for distant parts, hoping to atone for his past crimes by using his skills to serve others on his journey.

Most of all, time itself was the subtle destroyer of all they had built. Two generations passed, and few remembered firsthand what their group had done to defend the countryside. Demons aged slowly, and when Miroku passed away at the ripe old age of seventy, Shippo was still only the size of a ten-year old human boy. Without another holy figure in the village to defend his reputation, the local priestess launched a personal campaign to rid their community of its unsavory youkai parasite.

Kaede's replacement had taken an instant disliking to the kitsune when they first met, and she constantly sewed seeds of mistrust and fear into the others concerning demons like him. The fact that Shippo had a naturally disobedient, prideful nature did not help matters. Pranks that would have been dismissed as amusing and benign while Miroku lived soon began to be interpreted as irksome, even sinister.

The fox-child had not given in – one member of their former traveling party yet remained. For Sango, he knew he could be strong. Shippo doted on the aging lady, and she returned the favor. One day, she took him aside, and quietly gave him every weapon she had in her arsenal, drawing him a map of the ruined demon-slayers' village so that he might uncover hidden treasures there as well. He had known she must be dying, to settle her affairs like this, and his heart broke with the finality of it. Before long, he would be the only survivor of their pack – and though he was not young, he remained too small to lead the local demon-slayers, Sango's children and grandchildren.

But in the end, it was not Sango's death that marked his departure from the village.

The taijiya accepted a task from a local samurai warrior. Shippo acted as their scout, as usual, and everything went well, until he overheard a piercing wail from within a passing woodland. Alerting the others, all had agreed it was important to rescue whatever helpless person had been waylaid by youkai in the forest. They came upon a greying lady, maybe in her fifties, bloodied and curled into a protective ball on the ground. A rapidly weakening barrier had protected her, at first, but as the demon-slayers fought to defend her, more and more youkai gathered nearby, ravenously waiting for the barrier to fall.

"Something is calling them!" his team-leader had shouted. Thinking it might be the scent of her blood, Shippo had tried to heal the old woman's wounds, but her injuries were too severe. Seeming to recognize him, she had relaxed in his arms, revealing her precious cargo – a toddler with bright yellow eyes, silver hair and pale markings that Shippo would have known anywhere. This, then, had been the little voice he heard crying out for help.

"Tell Sesshoumaru-sama I love him," the lady had murmured, "And I am sorry I did not… protect…"

The light had faded from her eyes, all too soon, and the toddler had clutched her kimono silently, his golden gaze free of tears and empty of emotion. As the child went into shock, the taijiya finished dispatching the horde of lesser-demons that thronged around them, and his team-leader caught a glimpse of the exotic-looking boy that this strange woman had just died to defend. "A youkai," he frowned, "It looks human too. This is what we worked to save?"

It went without saying that such a powerful, defenseless babe would draw many hunters, each seeking to steal the child's strength for their own. The other taijiya grumbled in annoyance and strapped their weapons back on, obviously intent upon returning to the village. But Shippo knew that this was not just any child. Sesshoumaru would destroy them all in the blink of an eye, if he thought the townspeople were guilty of this little boy's death. The dog-demon would track their scents and demand to know why they had done nothing. He would burn the entire village down and rip their hearts out with his bare claws, if this little one died. Or so it seemed to Shippo. The kitsune could still remember the mask of rage that Sesshoumaru had worn, when Naraku threatened Rin. If a small orphan human girl could inspire that kind of loyalty and wrath from the dog-demon, what would he do for his heir?

Tearing off a blood-soaked section of the old woman's kimono, Shippo gathered the child in his arms and ran. It was his last act of mercy, toward a village that no longer needed or wanted his help. Laying down a scent trail in the opposite direction, he prayed it would draw the taiyoukai away from his friends.