Sesshoumaru felt the sunlight on his face before he opened his eyes. The scent of flora was next, teasing his senses and coaxing him to rise from the bed, even though he was loathed to do so. The last few days had left him weak—weaker than he cared to admit—dreams of the one who got away plaguing him throughout the night.
She always felt so real yet was so out of reach. He had offered her everything—continued to offer her everything, but she always scorned him. The rejection burned every time, leaving him bereft and empty, forced to slink back to his castle, licking his wounds.
Finally sitting up, he looked down at the woman lying next to him. Raven locks covered her face, and he rested an arm on a bent knee. He still hadn't figured out why he'd allowed her to live, let alone reside within his chambers. Her defiance had been scathing, and Hakudoshi had been right to leave her in the dungeon.
Prisoners were uncommon in Meikyuu, but punishment was sometimes necessary to reaffirm his rule. The surrounding kingdoms had never come anywhere close to an uprising, but every so often, there were a few who felt they deserved more power than they'd been born with, and Sesshoumaru was forced to remind them why he was king.
He'd been chosen, hand-picked by the prior ruler—and he wasn't even fae. There had been an uproar when the announcement had been made, Meikyuu's denizens being the most vocal, but it was more out of self-preservation than anything else.
Fae came with a specific kind of power; they relied on their connection with the land itself. Youkai were the epitome of destruction; what did they know about the ebb and flow of the elements? Of creation and growth?
Sesshoumaru had been skeptical at first, scoffing at the king's offer, but he'd somehow convinced him he was the best choice for the position—the only choice. And once Sesshoumaru had accepted it, he'd set out to prove the former king right.
He'd devoured the entire library, training until he bled so he could feel the heartbeat of the earth under his feet. It was in sync with his youki now, running through him as if it had always been a part of his being. He knew when there was tragedy, knew when there was imbalance, and something had been off since this human woman had shown up in his throne room.
She resembled Kagome, and the fire in her spirit had taken him in, but defiance had shone out of brown eyes instead of blue, and as much as he wanted it to be her, he was reminded of her true identity every time she looked at him.
He snorted. True identity, indeed. He didn't even know her name. She was sleeping in his bed, yet he knew no more about her than the day he'd met her. She was human, Hakudoushi despised her, and the kit enjoyed her company. That didn't tell him much, as Hakudoushi didn't get along with anyone but his sister, and Shippou got along with everyone.
Dragging a hand through his hair, he leaned back against the headboard. He felt energized, more so than he had in a long time, and though the latest dream had been particularly draining, he felt there was much to be accomplished today. Perhaps he'd find time to spend in the garden, as well.
He was chagrined to admit how much the interaction with Kagome had affected him. She'd been so powerful, even at such a young age, and after all this time, the ground still thrummed with the residue of their altercation. The fact that her power remained was telling, and he refused to cleanse her from Meikyuu completely.
It was like she'd never left.
Sighing, Sesshoumaru reached toward the woman, brushing a lock of her hair from her face as Kagome's shimmered in his mind. "You accepted every other gift from those who offered you aid," he said, voice pained. "What made mine so different?" She didn't move, and he suddenly noticed the shallowness of her breath, a frown puckering his brow before he nudged her shoulder.
When she didn't rouse, he nudged her again, turning her onto her back, eyes widening at the crimson stain across her pillow.
The wound on her head had reopened.
He sent out a flare of youki, uncaring as to whom it reached first, his hand going to her chest. Her heartbeat was erratic and weak, the pallor of her face ashen. She hadn't been this near death even after the fall; how had she relapsed so severely?
There was a knock at the door, but it opened before he bade them entry, Jaken squawking as Shippou shoved him out of the way. "What's wrong?" he asked, sounding panicked.
"Fetch Jinenji," Sesshoumaru said, gently moving the woman on top of his pelt to keep her warm. It immediately latched onto her, power flowing through her arms and steadying her heart. She inhaled sharply but didn't wake, and he glared over his shoulder. "Was my command unclear?"
"But my lord," Jaken replied, webbed hand gripping his staff. "She is merely—"
Shippou shoved his head down. "I'll get him!" And he disappeared into the hallway, leaving Jaken to squeak and scurry after him. Sesshoumaru pursed his lips. Perhaps the kit was more adept at taking orders than he thought.
Making a mental note to review his list of duties, Sesshoumaru turned back to the woman. Mokomoko continued to supplement her, his frown deepening at how well she accepted his youki. Kanna claimed she had power, but humans required a balance of youki and magic in order to benefit from its healing properties.
It was why the children always ended up as halflings. Their human blood had to be purged to take on the animal characteristics, but it was the fae magic that prolonged their lives. And considering the circumstances of where they came from, they were always more than willing to accept.
But this creature required no filter, pure youki acting as a blood transfusion to restore life to her body. He rid the bed of the sullied sheets and pillow, grimacing at how much there was. How long had she been bleeding out right next to him?
The door opened again, the soft shuffle of feet signalling Jinenji's arrival. "You called, my lord?" Sesshoumaru nodded, leaning back on the bed to reveal the woman, and the healer stepped closer. "I thought she was on the mend. The head wound was an easy fix. For a human."
"It would seem you left your work unfinished," Sesshoumaru mused, eyes narrowing, and Jinenji blanched.
"I'll inspect her again, of course." He moved around to the other side of the bed, pulling some herbs out of his sack before noticing the fur around her shoulders. "My lord, if I might be so bold, are you confident of her human heritage?"
At this point, he wasn't sure of anything when it came to her, and he raised an eyebrow in question. "Are you not?"
"Well," Jinenji hedged, "although I treated her after her fall, most of the healing came from within. Jaken mentioned trespassing, so I thought she was from one of the other kingdoms, but it was different from what I was used to."
More questions. More questions and the only one who could answer them was currently unconscious. His claws flexed, youki rising, only for mokomoko to siphon it through and offer it up to the woman.
Jinenji's eyes widened. "Is she a new halfling? They're usually not this old. And I can't sense which animal—"
"She is human," Sesshoumaru said, though he no longer sounded convinced, even to himself. The power Kanna had spoken of upon her arrival had felt familiar yet foreign, as if it were something he should recognize. It had drawn him into her cell when she should've been simply forgotten about.
"As you wish, my lord." The healer went back to his work, applying a salve to the open wound in order to slow the bleeding. Colour slowly returned to her face, but his pelt was still firmly attached to her shoulders, a constant connection between them even when he sought to sever it.
Jinenji offered to return in a few hours, keeping his head bowed to keep himself from voicing any more opinions. Sesshoumaru waved him off. "Return whenever you wish. As long as you bring more solutions to her well-being," he replied, barely looking at him. "And send the kit in."
He bowed again, then fled, satchel clasped tightly in his hands before stopping outside the room, whispering to Shippou, who'd been sitting on the other side of the door. The boy nervously stepped inside, wringing his hands together.
"You have been neglecting your duties," Sesshoumaru mused, bending one leg at the knee as he rested against the headboard again. He had his own to attend to, but something held him back every time he tried to pull away.
"Is she okay?" the kit asked, twin tails twitching.
"Are you concerned for this human? You are the one who brought her in."
Small hands clenched into fists, and Shippou straightened, gaze unwavering. "I brought her in, so she's my responsibility," he said.
"Hnn." He stopped himself from touching her again. It would not do to show favouritism when someone else was in the room. And he couldn't even define it as such, especially when he was still unsure of her origins. There was also the matter of her suppressed power. If she was an expert healer, why hadn't she focused that power on herself?
And how was she able to absorb youki without being youkai?
"Kit." Shippou stiffened, and the edges of Sesshoumaru's mouth twitched. He wasn't his eldest halfling, but he was undoubtedly the most devious, spending most of his free time playing pranks on the other residents of Meikyuu. "If she is your responsibility, then you will be the one to watch her."
Shippou jumped to the end of the bed. "Really?"
Sesshoumaru rose in a single, fluid movement. "You have free range of the kitchen if she wakes. And send for Jinenji should her condition worsen. Have Souten help if necessary."
The kit's face brightened, and he nodded fervently. "Yes, sir! You can count on me!"
He smirked, giving him a curt nod. "I am aware."
Jumping up onto the bed, Shippou crossed his legs, staring intently at the woman before glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. "She's special, you know."
He ran a hand through his hair. "So it would seem." He was a little more skeptical than Shippou, but it had been less than a century since he'd been removed from his circumstances and wished away, so he still saw the world through the eyes of a child. "I will return when my duties have concluded."
"Are you going to put her back in the dungeon?" he asked.
Sesshoumaru paused at the door, trying to decide if Shippou's wary tone or his own curiosity had him shaking his head. He supposed it didn't matter, considering the answer was the same either way. "No. She will stay here until she has healed." That placated the boy, his adolescent youki settling as he stood to watch, reassuring Sesshoumaru that she was in good hands.
Regardless of where the children were taken from, or how long it took them to heal, Sesshoumaru made sure they always felt safe after their arrival. Meikyuu thrived on the collective energy, and it would do them no good if fear and distrust ran rampant.
Nothing would grow otherwise.
He shut the door quietly behind him, striding down the hallway. Jaken immediately caught up with him, checking things off on a scroll. "Are we back to the regular schedule today, my lord?"
"As opposed to what?"
His vassal winced at his clipped tone. "Nothing overt, sire. Kanna mentioned there may be another wish made today, but I haven't been made aware of any new guests."
"There has not been a wish in several years, Jaken." The time between wishes ranged from weeks to decades, as Meikyuu dealt explicitly with those involving living beings. Fae and the like had been closer with humans in the past, but the rise in technology had gone hand in hand with logic, and stories of their kind had turned to legend, the barrier between their worlds being broken less and less.
Jaken blinked in surprise. "But my lord, you dealt with one just yesterday."
Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed; the woman had voiced similar words, but he'd brushed them off as he'd thought it part of a ploy to undermine his authority. "How many wishes have been made in the last year?" he asked.
Jaken went back through the scroll, murmuring to himself as he made several lines on the parchment. "Seventeen, my lord."
Sesshoumaru stopped in his tracks, grabbing onto the wall. Jaken had no reason to lie and would likely implode if he ever tried to do so, as his honour and loyalty mattered most to him. But if this were the case, and Jaken did speak the truth, the woman in his bed was the least of his worries.
He couldn't remember a single one of those wishes.