TRIGGER WARNING: mention of abortion, depression, and alcoholism
Kagome returned from her abrupt ride on A-Un to find the house quiet and Sesshoumaru lounging on the front porch. She'd only occasionally had an in-depth conversation with the youkai Lord in the past, so to find him waiting for her on the porch tickled her curiosity.
"Come to accuse me of being selfish too?" she queried as she climbed off his mount and stood before him. Defiant to the end, she met his unflinching gaze head on and prepared herself for one of his biting insults—only to find herself on the receiving end of a soft look of reproach. "Sorry," she mumbled.
"Hn." He looked away from her and settled back into his perch on the steps. "You made an admirable choice where the jewel was concerned. Any wish you might have made would have been perverted by the souls in the jewel."
"I know." Patting A-un in thanks, she sank down onto the steps next to him. "I know, but it doesn't make their accusations hurt any less. I didn't think…I guess I thought they knew I would never make a decision like that lightly."
"They are only human." He shrugged and turned his attention up to the full moon hovering above them.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
He sighed. "In the face of the imposing power offered by the jewel, they would have become as tarnished as Naraku's once human form Onigumo." He shrugged one shoulder and met her gaze. "To them, the world is as plain as night and day, right and wrong. They do not understand the indiscernible shades of gray our world is lived in."
Kagome could find no fault in his words. She'd always wondered what might have happened if she had let them make the deal with the jewel. How different would their world be today? "I've always questioned my choice," she murmured, dropping her eyes to stare at her shoes. One of them had come un-tied. Sighing, she leaned down to tie it. "Was it the right one? Did it hurt anyone? What if by not wishing I still allowed some horrible evil to be born? It wasn't until recently that I started to accept that there was no changing it, that what was done was done. That it was the right choice. And now everyone is back and alive and doing well and I'm that kid again making decisions off emotions and instincts and hoping it's the right thing."
Sesshoumaru snorted. "You have always been a child making decisions off emotion and instinct, Miko." He slanted a glance her way. "That does not mean you made the wrong choices."
Kagome smiled, though there was no real joy in it. "Thanks."
"Hn. There is no undoing the choice you made. The others will adjust."
For a long time after that, they were quiet. It was not the first time they had spent time enjoying each other's silence. She remembered many nights on the hunt for Naraku, after Sesshoumaru had joined their band, when they were the only two left awake in the dark of the camp. Though they had not spoken then as they spoke now, the peace was the same.
Sesshoumaru broke the silence just as Kagome was about to excuse herself to sleep. "There are debts to be repaid."
Kagome spun to look at him and found his indolent lounge on the steps replaced with imposing stature of his past self as he stood before her. "Sesshoumaru-sama, you don't-" The solemn quiet in his eyes made her stop. There was something here she didn't quite understand, but it was clear to her he wanted her to give him this chance to speak as he stood before her, straight and proud—an image from her past, if not for the tailored suit he wore.
"In the final battle, you protected this one's ward. You took a blow meant for her, a blow that would have killed her. This one knows you likely still bear the mark." He held her gaze, the honour of his clan and the pride of his status palpable in every inch of his stiff postue. "And then to discover some years later the child was not aging—not as humans should."
Her eyes widened and a small 'o' of understanding formed upon her lips. She'd assumed Rin had survived this long because of her mating bond to Shippou—but clearly she'd been affected by the deal Kagome had made with the jewel.
"You spared this Sesshoumaru the death of a child." Yōki spread out around him, proof of his power and the great depth of his gratitude as it curled around her—an embrace and an offer. "This Sesshoumaru has waited nearly 500 years to repay his debt. At first, I thought merely to provide for your financial security in this time—but upon realizing the gift you secured for my ward, such a method seemed an insubstantial payment for all you have given me."
Kagome stood, uncertainty and nerves making her legs tremble with the effort. Though she was unsure what he was trying to say, it somehow felt improper to face him while she sat. This time she could not stifle the urge to reassure him. "You really don't have to—"
His eyes narrowed and she was reminded of their first volatile meeting. "You will not allow this one to allay his honor?"
She was tempted to try to continue, but she was beginning to think he might feel insulted if she didn't let him say whatever it was he was trying to say. She only nodded mutely and waited.
"In the time since your departure 500 years ago, my estate has amassed substantial wealth and land holdings. My power has grown exponentially—I am one of the few remaining pure-blooded daiyoukai in the world, and none can withstand my yōki. I am a formidable male."
Understanding was beginning to dawn, and it took every ounce of respect and courtesy Kagome could summon not to take a step away from him.
"I am a formidable male," he said again. He moved until he was only a foot away, until the moon was eclipsed by him and his face was in shadow as he looked down at her. "I can provide you with a comfortable, happy life surrounded by family and pups and loved ones."
Her mind scrambled for a response as he stepped into her personal space. He didn't have to say it for her to understand—she'd been around Sesshoumaru often enough in the past to understand the tacit statement in the words left unsaid. "What-what about love?" she managed to ask. Her thoughts were quickly turning to sludge. This was the last thing she had ever expected from him.
Though Sesshoumaru was a male toughened by battle and time, he understood too the question left unasked in her words. Could he love her? Wasn't that important too? He smiled, a small one that he was sure she could not quite see in the midnight darkness—so he leaned down until his nose brushed against hers. "Many mated pairs have been based on friendship—and evolved into love after much time spent together."
It was an admission she had never thought to hear from him—that he was capable of love. She knew of course, considering Rin and all he did to protect her, but knowing and seeing were different matters altogether. As his nose continued to just brush against hers, she struggled not to look at him cross eyed. "I—I don't know," she said at last. "I had never considered you in that light before. Like a…like a husband."
"I am aware."
"And I have a prior promise to think about," she added, her mind finally catching up with the situation.
"I am aware of your promise to the wolf as well."
"I'm also still really young for this era. I'm not sure my family would approve right now."
"I am aware of that as well." He watched the myriad of expressions flickering across her young face and remembered how juvenile she'd been once. Upon finally reaching her time period, he'd been struck by her youth in his; in that time, it was a matter of no consequence to travel and battle and marry at fourteen. Now it was inconceivable. "This one will wait." He allowed himself another rare smile and leaned down even further until his lips brushed against her ear. "I made my decision almost two centuries ago, Priestess. What will yours be?"
Kagome swallowed and tried to decipher the torrent of emotions rushing through her. She'd only done what anyone else would have done in regards to Rin, and the outcome of her deal with the jewel had been as unexpected as it was unplanned. "I need to think about it," she said at last, and took one small step back so she was no longer swamped by his striking, alluring perfection.
He stepped back as well and put his hands in his pockets. "You may take all the time you need. You have an endless supply of it, after all."
He was the picture of modern negligence. There wasn't a doubt in her mind most women would fall for him if he so much as looked their way. "I might never say yes," she warned him, and wrapped her arms around herself as a cold breeze whispered past them.
The beast inside of him bristled at the warning, but Sesshoumaru had long since learned to control the monster. He only nodded, before focusing on the gooseflesh on her arms as she hugged herself. "It is too cold for humans now. You should rest for the night."
She studied him, standing there in the moonlight with his face in shadow. He looked so alone. Kagome knew if she didn't consider any other factors, that alone could be enough to decide for her—but there was so much more to think about. Resisting the urge to hug him, she nodded and stepped inside.
o.O.o
The next morning Kagome stumbled out of the guest room, scrubbed the sleep from her eyes, and went in search of Sango. Some conversations were better done with than avoided, and if there was one thing Kagome had learned in the few years since she'd returned to the future, it was that confrontation was better faced head on.
She found her friend sitting in a small salon off the main living room. Kagome watched from the doorway as Sango stared down into her tea cup. She was slouching, her shoulders almost flat against the table as she pressed her forehead against the rim of her coffee cup. She'd never seen her look so forlorn, never seen a frown etched so deeply into her face—even with her parent's deaths, she'd never seemed so sorrowful. She remembered Sango as tall and proud, her posture and manners more eloquent than most of the well-off girls that had attended her high school.
"You really haven't aged a single day," she said, her words a quiet entrance to the room as she stepped inside and sank down next to Sango. She hesitated, unsure of her reception, before taking one of her hands and holding it in her own. "I'm sorry my decisions hurt you."
There was a very small part of Sango, wounded by loss and time, that was tempted to pull her hand free of Kagome's—it was a warring desperation for comfort and friendship that decided she would cling instead. "You can't have known what would happen."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Sango was quiet for such a long time, Kagome thought she would not speak.
"Sickness took Kin'u from us, though it didn't have a name then. Gyokuto and Hisui died in battle against the Cult of Foundlings." She cleared her throat and finally let go of Kagome's hand to take a sip of her tea. "When Miroku realized we weren't aging, we were both worried what that might mean for the children. It was horrifying to watch them grow up and worry we would outlive them. When they stopped aging, it was like our wishes had been granted and we didn't think about it again."
Tears slid down Sango's face and Kagome watched as she drew her sleeve across her cheeks so savagely they turned ragged red. She could not begin to imagine the extent of the grief that must be welling up inside of her friend and she could not think of any words she could offer that might bright comfort.
"When Kin'u first got ill, we didn't think much about it. She'd always been a sickly babe and she'd always bounced back quickly. But she didn't recover, and the sickness grew worse and worse. They call it breast cancer now." She looked up to meet Kagome's eyes. "I wished you were still in the past so often—I thought for sure there was a way you could have saved her with your future medicines and healing knowledge."
"I'm so sorry Sango." The words felt heavy and inadequate, a stone at the back of her tongue threatening to choke her. What did you say to someone who had lost so much? Was there even a word for a mother who lost her child? She didn't know.
Sango shook her head and scrubbed away more tears. Tea sloshed over the rim of the mug as she tried to take a sip. "Gyokuto followed her a few decades later. She was slain by a dark priestess who was sent to assassinate her as an initiation right." When she'd calmed enough, she took another sip of her tea and wished, desperately, for something stronger. "I wonder sometimes if she wanted to lose—if she wanted to follow her twin. She was never the same after we lost Kin'u.
"Hisui died a hundred and two years ago. He was ambushed by a group of priests while escorting a family of tanuki to one of the Enclaves. They were right at the borders when the attack came. The tanuki survived, and he killed the priests—but his injuries were too deadly to recover from and Sesshoumaru-sama had already used Tenseiga on him a few years before."
Setting her tea down, she turned her attention to the sunshine outside. The singing birds and branches wafting in the breeze painted a jovial mood she couldn't quite bring herself to appreciate. "Miroku and I struggled after they all…we struggled. So we decided not to have any more children. He sank into drink, and I was so angry at the world. Every morning I wake up and I'm still so furious! There's this unending rage inside of me, Kagome—a great, searing wrath that I just can't smother. We didn't want to risk the loss again. But we got pregnant again in 1957.
"Gods help me Kagome, I didn't want the child." Sango dropped her eyes to the table again and tangled her fingers together until her knuckles turned white. "I was so scared and tired and still so, so furious. Why should I have this child when I couldn't keep my first three alive? What if we lost this one too?"
"Oh Sango," the miko whispered, and could not help herself but to reach out and take Sango's hands, easing apart those snarled fingers and trying to sooth her friend.
"We immigrated to England before the start of the second war, but abortion still wasn't legal in 1957. You would hear horror stories about women who got in trouble and went to those butchers who would do the job for a few notes—and some would die and some could never have children again or there would be other long-term effects." She squeezed Kagome's hands and did not wipe away the tears this time when they fell as she stared at the table. "I was still going to do it. I was so desperate, Kagome. But Miroku…he was so alive and sober for the first time in decades, and he begged me not to do it. He said if I died from the procedure, he'd kill himself to follow me. That we'd both lost so much already, it wasn't fair of me to leave him to suffer here alone."
It was on the tip of Kagome's tongue to accuse him of emotional manipulation, but she held herself back. It wasn't her family, or any of her business. That Sango was sharing now was a sign of trust and she didn't want to break it. Instead, she let go of Sango's hands and pulled her close, tucking her head against her shoulder and running a hand up and down her back.
"He said that if I really didn't want the child after it was born, we could give it up for adoption, no question. I thought maybe he was just trying to coerce me to keep the child. He'd gotten sober only a year or so before hand and he'd been so excited when I first told him—but that he'd be willing to give up the baby. I knew he really was only scared of losing me and not the child." Sango shuddered at the warmth Kagome offered but burrowed closer.
"We had the baby and I couldn't bring myself to hold her or look at her. Miroku had the papers drawn up and we started the process of finding a good home for her. But I couldn't do it in the end. Every couple Miroku found I rejected for one reason or another and I realized it was because there was a part of me that thought no one could raise her like we could—and she'd miss out on so many of the traditions and stories of our family. So we named her Yukiko—because it was her first winter after she was born and it was a new beginning for all of us."
If Kagome had put the question to herself, it was not a story she ever expected to hear from Sango. After she'd sealed the well, she'd consoled herself with the fact that her friends there would have the happily ever after they deserved so badly. Though she knew the hardships Sango's family had faced were not her fault, she still felt guilty. Maybe if she hadn't asked the jewel for something in return, they would have had normal, happy lives.
Sango was still crying into her shoulder and Kagome found there were no words she could say to express the extent of her deep sympathy. Instead, she contented herself with holding her friend until she fell asleep in her arms.
o.O.o
Their friends found them some time later.
Inuyasha rolled his eyes at the sight of them—Sango curled up in Kagome's arms, Kagome dozing off with her cheek resting against Sango's hair. "They had it out, looks like." He flopped down on the other side of the table and crossed his arms.
"It's good for her to talk about it all to someone other than me," Miroku said. He looked down at his toes. The shame of his part in their shared past was still a yoke around his shoulders—a reminder of what he could have lost if he hadn't managed to claw his way out of the bottle, if he'd made different choices.
"You both did the best you could." Inuyasha watched all three of his humans. He'd never thought he would live long enough to see Kagome again, let alone to witness the tragedies of his pack's extended lives.
Miroku shrugged. "Sometimes the best does not feel like enough." He rubbed the back of his neck and watched his wife's chest as it rose and fell in sleep. "I should take her to bed so she can rest properly. She didn't sleep last night." So saying, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of Kagome's head before he scooped his wife up and stepped quietly into the hall.
Bereft of the warmth and weight of Sango's presence, Kagome woke abruptly. She would have objected about Miroku's taking Sango away if it weren't for the tender look on his face. "I only ever wanted them to have a happy ending," she murmured, and turned back to find Inuyasha studying her. "I never thought they would suffer like this.."
"Keh. They had one, at first. And there's no point in wondering if things would have been different if you hadn't made a deal with the jewel instead of a wish—they could've faced the same hardships in a shorter time and maybe Yukiko never would've been born." Inuyasha shrugged. "I wanna talk about you now. Why aren't you taking care of yourself? You would've been able to take that miko last night if you'd been eating and working out properly."
It was Kagome's turn to shrug and she couldn't bring herself to hold his gaze as he tried to lock eyes with her. "I have been lately—since I met Yukiko."
"I know. She said last night. Why didn't you do it before?" Inuyasha didn't know why he needed her to say the words—but he did. And so he pressed. "You could've died last night, or worse—been abducted. If we hadn't intercepted when we did who knows where you'd be right now. You get that don't you?"
"500 years and you just jump straight into the scolding, don't you." Her voice trembled and even she wasn't sure if it was with annoyance or sorrow. When he didn't answer, she shrugged again. "I was alone. I kept having dreams about you all dying in some of the battles we won in the past even though I knew we'd won."
A younger Inuyasha might have accused her of being stupid, but time had tempered him. "You knew when you sealed the well we'd die—or you understood at the time that we would."
"I know!" she snapped, and exploded to her feet to stomp back and forth across the soft, woven tatami mats. "I know that. But I was alone and there wasn't a single person in the world I could tell the truth to about our lives then, not a single person who would understand the thrill of the danger or the fear of survival after the fact. I'd dream that Naraku had ripped you to shreds in the last battle, or that your brother hadn't rescued me from Mukotsu, or that Miroku's wind tunnel devoured him or any number of other things we lived through. And then I'd wake up back in my comfortable bed in my safe house in a world where youkai don't exist anymore and everyone would chalk up my dreams to having a vivid imagination. It was unbearable."
She stopped pacing to step out on the porch and rested a palm against the jamb of the shoji screen, as if it could anchor her into the present. "It was so hard to get out of bed, to take a shower—so much effort just to drink a bowl of miso." Kagome shuddered as a breeze whipped by. "The only reason I didn't…I couldn't do that to my mom—even if my deal with the Jewel had allowed me to. I couldn't make her clean that up," she whispered. "So I just got by, as best I could. I'm doing the best I can."
He couldn't berate her when he'd just told Miroku that both he and Sango had done they best they could do. It chilled him to realize she'd gone that far into the dark, that they might have lost her if not for the jewel and her own sense of duty to her mother. "Never thought I'd be thanking that damn jewel for anything," he said finally, and smirked when she spun to glare at him. "Now that you're lookin' at me—I'm thankful you found a way to get by. And I'm lookin' forward to putting you through your paces in the dojo."
Relief trickled down her spine. She wasn't sure she had the mental or the emotional fortitude to get any more into her feelings today. "Used to be you wouldn't even let me pick up a weapon," she said, and wandered back over to the table to sit across from him.
"Used to be you didn't need to fight," he answered.
Something like excitement danced to life in the tips of her fingers as she tapped them on the table. "So there's something to fight. Catch me up? And where is Kouga?"
Inuyasha shook his head. "Not yet. We voted. We tell the story as a group—we all got a part in it. Even that bastard brother of mine." Smirking, he leaned forward on the table. "So, I can't believe you didn't figure out that your whole campus is made up of youkai!"
Kagome groaned and dropped her head to the table. Some things never changed—and she was so, so glad for it.
o.O.o
Clinging to Shippou's back as he lept through the trees was a completely different experience compared to Inuyasha. Her adopted son's movements were smooth and controlled as he moved from branch to branch and though he'd informed her he was perfectly capable of flying like Sesshoumaru-sama, he preferred it like this.
"Thanks for bringing me to pick up some clothes and things," she murmured.
"Thank you for agreeing to stay with us for a little while. I think everyone will be more at ease with you in eye and ear shot," he laughed, and was oblivious to the scowl she sent his way.
"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself," she reminded him, but dropped her chin to his shoulder and pouted. "Or I will be, at any rate. I'm just a little out of shape."
Shippou laughed. "I know Mama. Everyone just wants to keep you close. There's still a lot you don't know yet." He squeezed her thigh reassuringly as he jumped. "And don't worry, as soon as we return, you'll have the whole story out of us. We just wanted to wait for Sesshoumaru-sama to return with the scrolls."
Kagome didn't know how to feel, though his offer of comfort was appreciated. There was a part of her that wanted to know what had happened. The words of that strange miko in the woods echoed in her heart—destruction of youkai. Something huge must have happened for her name to be held in such a manner. It was heartening to know that her friends immediately rejected that title. "I guess it's pretty bad, huh?"
"Most of it," he agreed, "But it's a long story and you won't wheedle any more details out of me."
The attack caught them mid-jump.
Kagome found herself crushed to Shippou's chest as he tried to control their fall. Branches slapped and tore, cushioning the fall as he struggled to regain his feet and avoid the barrage of arrows raining down on them.
"Hold on!" he snarled, and let go of her.
In a flash of foxfire and leaves, he abandoned his humanoid form and turned feral. Kagome clung to his fur as yōki exploded out around them. The blast of power ignited her own and she struggled to contain it as they reacted in self-defense.
They hurtled through the trees before his paws found purchase on the forest floor. Shippou's snarls were all the warning she needed to summon a barrier—just as another hail of arrows fell around them. She watched as people stepped out of the trees, more miko dressed like the one from the other night, and priests and slayers too.
When her barrier started to flicker and flash, Kagome knew something was terribly wrong. Her reiki was falling. "Something's not right," she whispered as exhaustion settled in her toes and inched up along her muscles. "Whats…"
Shippou's fox scream thundered around them as she slumped off his back and slid bonelessly to the dirt at his feet. It was only then he saw the sacred marks burned into the forest floor. Horror was a parasite beneath his skin as he jerked his eyes up to search the area for the anchor points—but it was too late. The moment she stopped touching him, her barrier fell. He moved to stand over her as she stirred feebly—only to find himself paralyzed. His tails slashed furiously behind him as he turned his attention to the Priestess approaching them. "You are breaking the covenant!" he snarled.
Kagome tried to get her bearings back, to regain some semblance of awareness and movement as she lay crumpled at Shippou's feet, but it was like a weighted blanket was holding her in place. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth, numb and useless.
The dark Miko laughed at the Kitsune's snarls. "It's almost cute he thinks we can understand him in this form. Roar roar, little Kitsune. Kill him. We'll bring the Miko back to the High Priestess."
The threat to her son whispered in her mind, a harsh sandpaper whisper that sent chills through her. She couldn't let this happen. Even as unconsciousness threatened to consume her, Kagome fought. Determination and love poured through her, a warmth that burned away magic of the spell compelling her to sleep. Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself up to her hands and knees. "I will kill all of you," she gasped out as her fingers dug into the scorched marking under her palms.
The dark Miko laughed again. "No, you won't. You can't do anything with our spells binding yours and the youkai's powers."
Kagome was not just Kagome anymore. Power coursed through her as she called on her connection with the jewel. She looked up to stare the other miko down and smirked. Her eyes lost all definition and filled with pink power as marks of power formed on her brow and cheeks. "Watch me."
Reiki coursed through her, crashing through the binding spells, annihilating them at each of the seven chakras inside of her. She brushed her aura against Shippou's in apology before she clapped her hands together and slapped them into the dirt.
Shippou howled in agony as purity exploded around him. The momentum of the blast freed him from the bindings and sent his body hurtling through the line of holy soldiers and crashing through the trees behind him—even as the soldiers crumpled one by one as Kagome's powers assaulted them.
It wasn't enough to end all of them. A sharp blow lanced through the back of her head and she faded from consciousness.
o.O.o
W/C – 5130
A/N – This chapter is a little longer than normal, and full of angst and back story. I debated for a long time about whether or not to share all of that backstory, but I feel it's pertinent information to the growth of Sango's character—which might be important later. As always, R&R.
Notes:
Suicide awareness week isn't for a while yet, but it's always helpful to know the details. Every year more than 700,000 people commit suicide. Men are more likely to kill themselves than women are, generally because women are worried about what will happen around them after the fact—who will clean it up, who will it hurt, etc. If you or someone you know is suffering from depression and suicidal ideologies, please seek help.
Abortion has existed almost as far back as written record can track. The earliest known records of abortion techniques and general reproductive regulation date as far back as 2700 BC in China and 1550 BC in Egypt. There have almost always been laws restricting and penalizing women for it, and often are enforced more as a way to protect male rights than to protect the women seeking the procedure.
Abortion has always been something desperate women consider—whether they simple don't want children, or they can't afford to have them (economically or otherwise), or any other number of reasons a woman might consider such a difficult matter. In places where it is illegal, you're sure to find any number of women who preform them illegally, and likely with no training, which endangers the life of the mother. Sango's initial decision to seek out such an illegal procedure was a common refrain in the US and the UK in that time period. While abortion has been practiced in some countries for generations as a way to control population growth, most western countries stumble over morals and politics. If you're curious about abortion, go check out the Abortion Law page on wiki.
As far as Miroku's plea for her not to have an abortion, I hope it's clear that he's more concerned about her well-being than he is about the fate of the child. I firmly believe that Miroku would support any choice Sango made, ultimately, but their love for each other helped them get through things. Maybe that's an idealistic approach though.