In the months that followed her tenth year of life, Kagome spent many of her lazy afternoons much the same as she always had—visiting her most beloved place in the whole stronghold.
The koi garden near Lord Sesshōmaru's private residence, was the largest and most beautiful of all the gardens in his entire palace.
At least, Kagome always thought so.
Not only was it vast, with hundreds of flowers competing for the attention the prominent water lilies—as big as the child herself—easily captured of all who visited.
But it also boasted of the most magnificent koi fish in the whole state, graceful and colorful as the eye could see, but none more admired than the precious few that sped through the pond in large serene waves of reds and whites.
—Kagome's favorite colors.
Long ago, when she had first come here, her lord had taught her about these water creatures, and how they represented that which he admired above all:
Purity—honesty—and integrity.
Qualities he had hoped his second ward would strive to encapsulate.
Though Kagome admittedly enjoyed watching the butterfly koi much more than any other, and had always hoped, instead, that she'd grow up to be like them—elegant and beautiful.
However, above all else, she more so admired the legends of old, especially the one that told of the gate of success, and how these fish in particular had the strength to swim upstream all the way to the top of a waterfall, and in doing so, would then become dragons.
Just how wonderful, she always found herself imagining, would that be?
This little human child, so small and helpless, in a world of demons and beasts, could not help but find herself wishing nothing more than to be granted the right to fly above the koi dragons themselves.
Perhaps this was the main reason why she could spend hours on end watching this impressive water garden, and so easily lose herself in dreaming up such unobtainable fantasies.
Sometimes—like today—if she stretched out her arm far enough, she might just be able to feel the whispers of that magic, letting itself gently sprinkle over her small fingertips for a second or two.
"Don't lean so close, O'hime", her attendant cautioned, grasping Kagome by the back of her obi, in fear that she might topple over at any moment.
"Unless you want to become fish food yourself…", she added with a tease, tickling her sides.
The child in her care giggled even louder, her flushed round face the perfect picture of glee as she stood on the rails of the bridge, while recklessly dropping food pellets from her palm.
"These fish wont eat me!", she cried, as if too amused by the thought that something less than half her size could ever cause her any harm, "they're my friends!"
"Hn", a deep, male voice vibrated in the general vicinity, suddenly cutting off her fun as she struggled to look around with a startled gasp.
"Lord Sesshōmaru!", she squealed in delight at seeing him shortly after, then immediately ran in his direction as fast as her legs could carry her, "you are back!"
For it was always a wonderful treat whenever he returned home earlier than expected from his expeditions.
Apart from missing him dearly of course, usually it accompanied a feast, or rare gifts…
—Sometimes both!
"Kagome", the demon replied once she reached him, his large hand coming down to smooth the top of her dark hair just as his dangerous eyes traced and nitpicked over every bit of her form, diligently.
"Why are you wet?"
He ignored the bashful maid who bowed even lower at the displeasure in his voice.
"I was wading at the edge of the pond", Kagome answered, pulling on his hand as if to show him herself, though Sesshōmaru did not budge an inch, "I like how the sand tickles my toes!"
"The weather is getting cold", he replied, not nearly as amused as she, "be obedient and don't play in water from here on."
The child pouted, dissatisfied.
"But—
"Come.", her lord ordered, effectively cutting off the excuses he knew would never end, and then gestured at her to follow him instead, "this Sesshōmaru has something to show you."
"What is it?" Kagome asked, her petulance already forgotten as she practically bounced in excitement, even if it did make it much harder to keep up with his long strides, "a gift?"
"Do you and your sister know of nothing else to ask for?"
Kagome grinned, entertained like always, at the long, stoically unamused drawl of his voice.
"I like gifts", she admitted, with a short shrug.
Lord Sesshōmaru stopped briefly for a second, only to look back at her in mild amusement.
"Well", he smirked as the words left his mouth, "if you succeed today, this Sesshōmaru will endeavor to procure for you, any gift your heart desires."
"Anything?"
The demon nodded, once again leading the way, "this Sesshōmaru gives you his word."
Missing how her lord gestured her attendant away as her mind wondered into yet another daydream, this time the little girl couldn't help but muse at all the possibilities his promise implied…
At first, Kagome simply thought of toys—silk dressed wooden dolls, jade encrusted drums…
Her tummy rumbled as she thought of sweets—candied fruits and honey tarts, filled up to the brim with gooey rice cake…
She even thought of naughty things—like Jaken's staff.
There really was just so much to choose from!
"Will you play my new game with me?", she inquired after a while, finally settling on what she coveted above all the favored treats she could wish for.
Lord Sesshōmaru sighed, as she knew he would, "and what game is this?"
"Kagome", she said, stoping to point at herself proudly, "used up all the origami sheets so the servants could make lots of paper money, and now that there's enough for a dowry—Kagome can finally get married…"
In response, the dog demon merely raised a pale brow.
"It's a wedding game!", his ward exclaimed, as if he could not have possibly understood her before, "only there is no groom—and no one can find Inuyasha-sama anywhere", she huffed, "will Lord Sesshōmaru promise to play in his stead?"
The demon lord scoffed softly, unable to suppress his contempt for such a silly game, not to mention, who she had chosen as her intended—though he did chuckle a little, despite himself, at the slight charm of such simple infantile pleasures.
All little girls, it seemed, were quite the same.
"Is this your way of telling this Sesshōmaru that a child like yourself already wishes to be married off?"
Little Kagome giggled, hiding her bashfulness under the palm of her hands, though the blush in her chubby cheeks still glowed in between the gaps of her fingers.
"No!", she protested, then giggled even more when he only but glanced her way once again.
"Hn."
"It's only a game!", she assured, reaching forward to pat the side of his armor soothingly, not unlike how Momo often did to her back, whenever something in particular bothered her more than usual.
—Just in case, she figured somewhat gravely, that his assumptions had worried him.
"Besides", she added, now with more pep to her step, "Kagome never wants to be married off! Kagome only wants to live with Lord Sesshōmaru, forever and ever!"
The demon lord chuckled softly once again; a rare treat, made even rarer these days—that small, yet deep rumble, suddenly making the little girl's tummy tickle in response.
"Forever, you know", he warned, "is a very long time."
His ward's childish grin remained just as bright as it had been when she had first greeted him.
"Kagome does not mind!"
The female attendants sprinkled about the garden entrance, much like usual, all giggled daintily behind their palms at her notions.
Lord Sesshōmaru ignored them too, though he did still reach down to pat the child's head once more.
"Children should just be children", he chastised with a drawl, "there is no need to fantasize over such foolish things at this young age of yours. Why not chose another game?"
"I want to play the wedding game…", his ward muttered, a tiny pout once again marring her little features.
"Like lady Ai!", she practically begged, "who was visited three times and drank the wine—and ate the banquet rice!"
"Look at you", the mighty lord warned, leaving the tantrum behind him without a single glance back at the somber child creating it, "only unbecoming little girls scream and shout, but never get what they want."
Though it wasn't much later, when he agrees to comply with these such foolish wishes of hers, but only—and only if—she can prove to succeed in the task at hand.
Guiding her towards a door near his rooms that Kagome had never seen, past a corridor she had not realized existed, he continued leading her inside a large chamber, dark, empty, and cold.
Well not exactly empty, she figured—taking sudden note of the strange, yet intricately carved gold pedestal placed in the center, as well as the old, rusted sword lodged in it.
It is his long departed father's fang, her lord tells her, and nudges her forward pointedly when she cowers before it.
"Have a good look", he instructs the child, and then smiles, though his greed filled eyes shone with a desperate glint—it was intimidating how they simmered and glowed within the shadows of a sudden darkness.
"Go on."
"I'm scared, Lord Sesshōmaru…", Kagome murmurs, and she cannot not understand why, "…c-can you too hear it whisper…?"
Something dark, something unhinged was calling her name.
It was too loud to be a hiss, too low to be a rumble—yet almost certainly foreign, and so old it must be ancient.
The dog demon frowned, pushing her closer, pointedly ignoring her trembling gasp of fear.
"What does it say?", he urged.
Little Kagome shook her head, left mute by the voices flooding in her ears, and though she's too frightened to move, something else, an invisible force, propels her forward anyway.
"What does it want?", her lord pressed, even more demanding than she had ever heard him.
—Not that it mattered, for in that one moment it was as if her mind and body were no longer her own.
No ominous light exploded from the cracks of gold in the pedestal—no real power to subdue an army of ten thousand exuded from the cold, battle worn blade—in fact, to the spectator's naked eye, it was as if nothing of consequence ensued between sword or child.
And yet…
Her small, almost tiny hand instinctively reached forward and effortlessly broke through the barrier the demon knew to be there, within seconds—crumbling it to pieces at the slightest touch of her thin, human skin.
"Freedom", the girl's hollowed voice answered at last, in nothing more than a whisper of her own.
And just as her palm graces the cold hilt of the sword calling her name, her small fingers tentatively curling around it, the world spins and spins all around her until falling forward, Kagome manages to release the weapon from its prison—bringing it down with her just as darkness seeps into her peripheral.
It all had manifested much too suddenly.
Springing forward, Sesshōmaru catches the girl before her head hits the floor, wide eyed and disbelieving.
He then cradled her in his arms, observing tersely as the sword drops from her limp hand and falls to the ground before him with a loud clang.
What had just happened? Even he does not know.
—However, only one thing had been certain, and it was that she had done it.
Somehow.
Wide eyed, Sesshōmaru allowed that thought to settle in for a moment.
Unlike all who were thwarted before her, Kagome alone had succeeded in releasing his sire's weapon from its almost impenetrable sheath—but how?
Adjusting his ward in order to free up one of his arms, he slowly reached down to grasp the long coveted fang, and is unsurprised at the harsh sting it bestows him.
Ignoring the raw and burnt skin at his palm, the demon turned back to the child in his hold and quickly lifted up her own hand.
This time he is surprised, to find that it is clean and unmarred.
Can it be?
The white noise blowing in his ears grew tenth-fold, until he was quite sure it had deafened him, and the usual steady beating of his heart, he noticed, grew loud, fast, and desperate.
It worked!
Sesshōmaru had not believed it could have been possible—he could only just assume, even lowering himself to hope—but he had not dared believe it would actually work as he had so meticulously anticipated.
Even if this—whatever this had been—hadn't gone exactly as planned.
But just as expected, where Kagura had failed, this little human girl had long surpassed her.
Naturally, the small triumph exhilarated him.
And yes, though he could still not touch the fang—it simply did not matter.
For progress had been made, as well as a step in the right direction.
This Sesshōmaru—his happy heart boasted, stroking the child's back as if to reward her—was confident he had made the right choice after all.
He was more than sure of it now.
And he would compensate his ward for this agreeable little gift of hers, he wordlessly assured the unconscious child—adjusting her so that her small face snuggled comfortably against his neck—as if beholding something far more fragile than glass.
He then vowed forever to do so, dutifully so—so long as she continued to please him in this way.
—Devotedly even, if he need be.
With the intoxication of his glee still surmounting his system, the demon merely stepped over the sword without a single look back, knowing it would remain safe and untouched until next time, and wordlessly continuing to contemplate the small miracle that was his youngest ward.
As he kicked open the doors, and padded slowly towards his rooms, disregarding gasping and fumbling attendants, he allowed no one so much as look at her, much less alleviate her weight from his arms.
For who could possibly bare the right?
"Shall I send for Momo?", one servant offered anyway, shrinking away from her lord's glare.
Lord Sesshōmaru openly sneered in response, waiting for those posted by his personal rooms to lift up the elegant kicho screen.
"Enough with your blabber", he warned her, stone-faced, disregarding the suggestion as if it insulted him, before dictating his next orders, "go now—make yourself useful and send for a white silk tailor."
"W-White silk, my lord?", the female attendant muttered, fear striking into her person.
Had someone finally done it? The servant's mind wondered warily, craning her neck slightly, asking herself if the little human had, as always expected, been cruelly slain in the master's absence?
Though she and her companions all breathed a sigh of relief moments later upon the slight sound of a tiny, childlike groan.
"Ask them to make a little bride robe fit for a child—the color of white jade, only brighter", Sesshōmaru merely instructed, disregarding the tension.
And much to his annoyance, someone gasped, and another dropped their flyswatter.
"At once!", he barked.
His servants all flinched, of course, and wide eyed, had no choice but to bow in obedience, before wordlessly scattering away with their orders.
The demon lord then gestured for those who remained to leave him be as well, before finally stepping into the privacy of the room.
He then, at last, gently lowered the unconscious child onto his soft furs, before adjusting them meticulously until he was absolutely certain she was properly cushioned.
The little girl groaned again at what must have been a very slight disturbance, and somewhat to her guardians light amusement, he could not help but let out a soft tut in the face of such a pampered audaciousness.
Out of all the children in the world, he reasoned, this one must have been born with a liver as hard as a stone.
Taking a moment to observe her slumped form—noting her soft, sleep like sigh, as well as the gentle rise and fall of her breaths—and the slight flutter of her long, thick lashes—he couldn't help but also reach out and sweep away the tapered strands of the dark bob hiding her face.
Though only still just a little girl, a human at that, even he had to admit that there was much potential in her yet.
Lord Sesshōmaru, for one, was satisfied in knowing that she had not failed him, and pleased to see merit and worth in having spared her those mere few years ago.
Whether he had been right or wrong in doing so, now at least, he was finally free to anticipate what more she might have to offer him, in these later years to come.
Perhaps everything—perhaps nothing.
Surely, only time will tell.
But for now, she had bought herself ample amounts, and feeling rather gracious, the demon lord might as well strive in first granting her wishes—as had been promised.
Especially now, that their future together had been more than secured.
After all, had Kagome not demanded to stay at his side just a while ago, and even begged to play pretend marriage?
—It was an easy enough task.
Certainly, Sesshōmaru was sure, he could at the very least award her this.
That, and all the pretend weddings her little heart desired, as many as will keep her satisfied— well into old age even—or at least long enough to assure her she had nowhere else to go.
For this little key of his, where could he possibly lend her away?—and to whom?
If the thought irked him before, it certainly unsettled him now.
Looking at the child once more, resting so prettily in his bed, obliviously dreaming away in her deep slumber, it was like a sudden engulfing weight settled in the pit of the demon's stomach.
A rather troubling one at that.
His little Kagome, with the pure innocence of a child, could not possibly dream to understand the promises made in her pleaded vows from earlier.
Nor, he knew, could she truly mean them now.
Little children, after all, are needy for only so long, and their precious promises were just as hollow as their little bones.
—Let alone for something as fickle and short lives as a human.
Sesshōmaru grimaced.
Wasn't she already, at this much too tender age, trying to picture herself as a little bride?
Too often now he's caught her eagerly spouting one nonsense, when clearly meaning another.
It was a troubling thought indeed, and one that only made to harden the resolve simmering and bubbling inside his mind all the more.
—Mean it she should.
—Mean it she must!
Mean it she would—someday soon—and in no time would quickly learn to attest to every last bit of that declaration of hers, and hold herself accountable for it too.
The demon lord would make sure of it.
After all, had he not done it before?
But unlike Kagura, Kagome will be no less than a true piece of precious jade, molded, carved, and buffed to perfection—forever unmarred and untainted.
Beautiful, malleable, and just as breakable.
Though so long as she held the ability to grant his own wish within that small, delicate little palm of hers…
Sesshōmaru would even go as far as to compensate her for that.
Days later, after she had finally awoken from a deep sleep and her now long forgotten dream, the ten year old Kagome was immediately bathed in warm scented water, and then left to play merrily with the white petals floating in her tub.
The crushed pieces of her usual bath flower seemed dulled and almost dirty compared to the white robes Momo had eventually brought out for her to wear after.
It was a gift from Lord Sesshōmaru, she had said, a kimono fit for a bride, with more layers than Kagome had ever worn before—the fine, elegant, silk much lighter and brighter than all the fluffy clouds painted in the warmest of blue skies.
He had sent for it be made special, just for her, Kagome had been told, and the knowledge of that had made her grin from ear to ear.
"Where is Lord Sesshōmaru now?", the girl asked just as her attendant made to to dress her while she played with the long, crimson colored ribbon that had accompanied her robes.
"Is he away?"
Seeing that her attendant pretended not to hear, Kagome huffed once and then twice more.
"His lordship is in his rooms, waiting for you", Momo finally replied, carefully evading the small hands that playfully attempted to capture her wrist within the soft red material.
"Stay still!", she eventually warned with a huff of her own, "you must not tangle the red string of fate—it'll knot and break before you know it, and then you'll be sorry indeed."
The complaint however, did little in deterring her charge.
"What's a red a string of fate?", the child openly wondered, pulling on it even tighter.
The servant huffed again, waving her away, "Let your master teach you that!"
Little Kagome scrunched her nose, dissatisfied with her answer, though she did place the long, thin piece of silk aside, now in favor of running her fingers over the rich material of the robes.
They really were a most enviable set.
"Momo?", she tried again, not understanding the cause, but still easily recognizing her favorite attendant's melancholic sigh, "are you cross?"
"Of course not, O'hime-sama", the demoness muttered as she worked, now pointedly refusing to meet her charge's curious blue eyes.
Well, not cross in any way she could freely express, at least.
A servant's duty, after all, was only to serve their master—nothing less, nothing more.
Momo worried her lower lip.
But how could she, someone who was bought and brought especially and solely to care for the little helpless thing before her, not feel beyond that of what was expected?
This whole business had left her nothing short of restless, her knuckles alone felt bruised and raw from three whole nights of nerve induced rubbing and fidgeting.
This happily oblivious child—human or not—at the tender age of five summers, was placed in her arms by the very lord who reigned over their life or death.
—And with nothing more but the simple instruction to watch over and protect her, Momo had ever since looked upon her as the sole reason as to why stars sprinkled the night sky and the sun rose in the mornings.
Childless as she was, for the orangutan demon, it was simply in her nature.
If not love, then it must be attachment, but who could begrudge her the emotions she felt, whether deserving or not?
So it was only reasonable that all this time the child had not opened her eyes, Momo had, of course, done nothing but worry.
O'Kagome-hime was the child she would never have—the little feet who scurried to find her at the whisper of dawn—the tiny hands who reached for her warmth when otherwise there would be none.
It was only natural then, that being dismissed without notice and barred from attending to her with no news of her wellbeing—whether dead or alive—for almost four days, had continuously hardened the servant's heart.
Such a little girl, her mind reeled, playing pretend father and sisters, under what necessity had to be begrudged her own nursemaid when she was needed most?
—Only to be dressed and paraded in the farce clothes of a child-bride, at such young age, for the ego of a man who would never love her, nor allow her to love.
And it was all for sport, one Momo felt was extremely cruel, yet no one dared risk their lives to stop it.
—not the envious Kagura, or the unpreoxcupied Lady Inukimi, and even less so any of those sniveling courtiers sniffing about day in and day out.
In fact, she could still hear those fools now.
'Lord Sesshōmaru was patient and kind', they had all praised, for he dotes on the little human's every whim, watches over her when ill, and even consents to all her little pleasures.
How grand!—How galant!
But Momo knew better, and had seen so.
—how had the others not?
Though the servant demoness supposed blind men will always make better company than those few unfortunates tormented by shadows in the night.
However, it did not matter one way or the other, for to the nursemaid turned attendant, her little Kagome was yet much too green to be allowed to trifle in these dangerous amusements.
If one could even call them that.
And what's worse, she especially hated being the one tasked with leading her to that cold and bitter place of no return.
After all, it had not taken the older woman much too long to recognize that there were doors in this already formidable palace that should remain closed and must never be opened.
—Not all of them literal, either.
"Where are we going?", her charge asked after a while, breaking the thin veil of silence that had for once engulfed them, "to play my wedding game?"
'Can it really be called a game if not all the players boasted equal footing?'
"Of course.", Momo mumbled, rousing out of her thoughts and re-busying herself with tying the intricate fabric over Kagome's small form, "wasn't it your wish?"
The little girl giggled, unable to hide her wide grin, "but what of the three visits, and the wine?"
"You slept right through them", her servant chastised, unamused by the small, disbelieving gasp that greeted her, "your rice wine too, it has already turned cold. How ever will you dare drink it now?"
"Like this!", the child teased, pretending to hold the cup in her hands, cheekily bringing it up to her pouty lips with a loud 'gulp, gulp' sound.
Momo chuckled despite herself, unable to help but find affection in such childlike exuberance.
How much longer—she then wondered, as the notes of vitriol in her heart slowly melted to acid—would it thrive within these frigid walls?
Little Kagome's grin too faded after a while, until the servant noticed a small contemplative pout grace her rosebud lips.
"Is this how I'll look when I meet my real husband someday?", she heard her wonder out loud, and then observed how the soft skin on the bridge of the child's nose crinkled distastefully.
Momo smile faintly at that—this silly child, always only preoccupied with her own little world.
"Certainly", she replied.
Catching a small glimpse of herself on the intricate copper mirror right besides her, the young girl's pout turned into a wry frown.
"Will I be more beautiful?", Kagome pressed, unsatisfied.
The servant hummed agreeably, now busying herself with carefully prepping the pins that will go in her hair.
"There is not doubt of that in my mind", she assured.
—'there's no doubt of that in anyone's mind'.
Contended with that answer at last, Kagome's grin slowly returned—and in her mind's eye, rather than an awkward child—she could already imagine a gorgeous and graceful young woman sitting proudly and upright in her place.
This secret vision of a more confident and older Kagome in lieu of her reflection, winked and wordlessly grinned right back at her, as if securing a promise.
It was enough to put the little girl's worries aside for the moment, and her heart at ease.
"Will you cry?", she pressed, now searching the mirror for a glimpse of her attendant's dark inhuman eyes.
Within seconds Momo met her gaze, humoring her, but only briefly, with a warm, gentle smile.
She then snorted good naturally, "this servant does not dare."
Kagome gaped.
"Even if you could not ever see me again?"
Her attendant scoffed and sighed loud enough to be heard from outside the chamber doors.
"Would you rather I bring you great shame by throwing one of those tantrums you're so fond of?", she retorted.
As expected, her charge cackled—Momo tutted at that—she was also always so generously giggly.
"I suppose you won't need to cry", the child then assured with all the confidence in the world, "for my husband will be kind, and he will only have eyes for me—I shall always be happy."
The ten year old just knew it had to be so.
And once again in Kagome's minds eye, she could already see that very beautiful lady who's reflection had so easily seduced her, standing in all her abundant fortune, by a faceless, high born warrior—forever and eternally loved and respected.
And though perhaps not a demon, or a dragon, she would yet become something just as precious, even if only so in the eyes of the one who'd swear to share the rest of their lives together.
Maybe by then, that would be all that truly mattered.
Briefly she let herself wonder what his name might be, and to what house he'd belong?
—Would he be human like her, or youkai like the rest?
How many children will they have? —perhaps only two…—or what if twenty?
Though not endless, the possibilities were vast.
The inevitability of it all, at least, made it no so scary.
The worn demoness besides her, however—for her part—seeing none of it in her own mind, scoffed under her breath.
"What does a child like you know about the meaning of such happiness?", she questioned.
Little Kagome shrugged at that, wholly unbothered and entirely too proud.
"Even if I don't know", she reasoned, "Lord Sesshōmaru will make sure of it for me."
Once again, the servant avoided that bright and expectant blue gaze so casually observing her, and instead with a soft hum, urged the child to let her finish her work or risk missing out on the planned festivities.
This, it seemed, was enough to convince her charge—so much so that not another inquiry or word was spoken until the very last piece of the white garment was placed over her person.
And though the whole process had only taken no more than an hour to complete, Momo, who now had nothing left but to stare down at her handiwork with bittersweetness in her heart, was still left just as void and barren as when Kagome's unconscious body had at last been brought to her for safekeeping.
Her fingers too were frozen to the touch, left numb and unfeeling, even as her hand reached down to lightly grasp the softer and smaller one her charge so eagerly offered her.
Almost as if sensing her trepidation, Kagome noticeably tightened the grip on her hold, though she still made a point to pull the attendant after her nonetheless.
Gently leading them forward with her head held as high as all the pins scratching her scalp allowed her.
This was her game, after all, the little girl reasoned, quickly swallowing her own apprehension—and she was more than entitled to allow anyone she wanted play it.
Momo, of course, like always, had no choice but to follow.
And as per usual, her charge gave her a soft, almost rewarding smile for her trouble.
"…don't let go…"
.
.
.
A/N: All this time and I hadn't realized I never posted this chapter on here! Oops! My bad, that was so stupid of me...but hey, at least now you'll get a two for one. Anyway, quick-to the next chapter! xx