Gwen fidgeted with the teaspoon, her thoughts completely wild as she tried to separate past and present. Taishō had yet to make an appearance in the tea shop, but he consumed the entirety of her mind for the moment. Even the whipped cream over her glorious hot chocolate felt bland in regards to her inner turmoil.

The story of his past life was as glorious as it was heartbreaking. The Yōkai world, in itself, was so different from the human one that she had trouble putting herself in his shoes. Did he suffer from the expectation of being the Great Dog General ? Did he thrive under the pressure, using it to become the DaiYōkai he'd been subbed to be ?

How much of the demon spirit remained ? Sure, her Captain enjoyed a good challenge, especially when it came to tossing Mark a few uppercuts. Would he be capable of such destruction, of destroying entire armies, of wielding a cursed sword and keeping it under wraps ?

How did he handle the duality ? The merging of whom he had been, and who he was today ? So many questions; it would take an eternity to answer them all, provided she dared asking them.

Were there any Yōkai left in the world, hidden in sanctuaries, or in plain sight ?

The bell tingled; the familiar aura of her Captain suddenly called her body to attention, but her mind still roiled with the harsh knowledge that this beloved face had been crushed and burnt to death, leaving behind a wife that loved him, and a son who would never know how much his father cherished him. When he settled in front of her with yet another blend of China tea, Gwen averted her eyes to keep her own feelings under wraps. How ridiculous he would think her if he spotted those unshed tears in her eyes ?

Fortunately, Taishō cut to the chase.

"So ?"

"It was… awesome."

His smirk felt forced, this time.

"Every dog has its day, right ?"

Gwen smiled, heartened by his ability to make light of his past story.

"Yours are everyday, Taishō," she grinned. "But I'm glad you are the station commander rather than a Great Dog General."

"Why ? Wouldn't it be great to have a DaiYōkai at your beck and call ?"

At your beck and call ?

Gwen frowned, wondering what his words meant. For a moment, she watched the elegant lines of his face, admiring how his sun kissed skin complimented the gold of his eyes. Hidden emotions swirled in their depth, and she watched further, seeking for answers.

"Gwen," he growled, raising the teacup to his lips.

The young woman blinked, as if emerging from a thick fog.

"It is unfair if you use your gift on me."

The young woman was about to protest when he lifted an eyebrow, daring her to contradict his assessment. Rouge crept up her cheeks when she realised she had lost control, too adamant to find answers to consider how it might feel to be prodded.

"Gomen."

Taishō nodded.

"I guess it's my fault for dropping this in your lap."

Gwen took a deep breath, her heart flip flopping; she was losing sight of the too many lines he was sending, feeling completely lost. Only one thread remained clear enough, and she latched onto it with all her might.

"It feels so sad you had to die this way."

Taishō reclined in his seat, his shoulders slumping slightly. Nimble fingers fidgeted with the square of chocolate set beside his cup.

"Ah yes, it's too bad, right ?"

Silence settled upon them both, contemplative, filled with hurt and regret. Taishō's eyes lingered over the room, unfocused; he was miles and miles away. So far, that when his eyes snapped back to hers, intense and demanding, she almost started.

"I wish I knew what happened to them," he stated, his smile so rueful that she longed to grab him in a bear hug. Her throat constricted, and Gwen downed the hot chocolate in hopes of regaining control. The subject of his sons brought him so much pain that his aura lashed out erratically.

"So you died in a fire after all," she attempted.

"Yes."

His words were so soft that she barely heard them. Indigo tendrils seemed to settle, and Gwen wondered what kind of man found the memory of his own death more comforting than anything else.

"I would have died either way," he went on. "But taking Takemaru was a requirement to allow Izayoi to live on."

Izayoi, he thought. My beautiful hime, I failed you. Gwen was silent again; she had the patience of an archangel, to listen to him ramble about his wife twice over.

"She was soft, you know. A real princess, born and bred to please a man. She knew so little of our world… She must have had it rough without…"

His voice cracked then, and he took a deep breath to try and settle his yōki that seemed adamant to lay waste upon the modern world. Grey eyes watched, a well of compassion and understanding. And since he remained silent, Gwen finished that blasted sentence for him.

"…a male to protect her ?"

Have you someone to protect, Sesshomaru ?

"Hai," he nodded. "Those were rough times, especially with InuYasha's heritage."

How did his little Hanyou live his life ?

"Is that what drew you to her ?"

Wrenched from his self-depreciative thoughts, Tōga started. Who, exactly, were they speaking about ? His past Hime, or his modern ex-wife ? The first option was easier to respond to.

"I think, yes. She allowed me to be something other than a general. I was a good fighter and an even better strategist. But no one ever asked me if I wanted to fight day and night."

A strange weight lifted from his heart, and Tōga was surprised to be unashamed to admit it; no, he didn't want the world to rest upon his shoulders anymore.

"Because Yōkai challenged each other ?"

"Be strong, or be dead," he confirmed.

The little lady winced at his response; a human couldn't possibly fathom what hardships he had faced in the past. What kind of violent world he'd lived in. But she still understood honour, and he'd found it intact in the army. Warriors never changed, be them ningen or Yōkai.

"You know, I have been thinking a lot about Izayoi," Gwen mused.

Tōga gave her a pointed look.

"Oh ?"

An adorable blush dusted her high cheekbones, and he found himself enthralled by the sight of her tawny hair brushing the reddened skin. For a moment, Izayoi was pushed away in favour of the young woman that sat, embarrassed, in front of him.

"I mean, I'm sorry if it might seem presumptuous but…"

Ah, so she was afraid to intrude into his life. Had she not realised yet that he had handed her the key a long time ago ? Laid himself bare to her scrutiny as he encouraged her to use the gift to unravel his secrets ? That he wanted to be seen, for once ?

"Your insight is great, Gwen. Tell me what you have in mind."

The blush slowly receded as her gaze turned dead serious.

"She refused to acknowledge that past life. But somehow, her soul must have known, and created a conflict in her subconscious."

Ah, psychology.

"Your little brother shows there," he gently teased.

"Yes, he taught me a lot."

And you never stop learning, don't you ?

Her mind was that of a curious child, with the analytic abilities of a grown woman. It was refreshing, and pretty baffling, at times.

"Go on," he urged, wondering what kind of connection she'd made.

"I understand why she didn't want a repeat of this. Perhaps, somewhere, she was afraid you would die in the army and leave her with a child to care for."

Tōga inhaled sharply; this was getting very close to home, but he felt on the verge of a discovery.

"She said I wasn't fit for children."

Instead of deterring Gwen, it seemed to fuel her.

"But that's the whole point, don't you see ?"

"No, I don't."

His frustration took her aback, and he struggled to school his features.

"Don't mind my grumpy self, continue."

Gwen seemed to debate with herself; he allowed her a moment to collect her thoughts. Fortunately, she didn't ask if he was sure, and gathered her courage to slap the truth in his face without any adornments.

"She probably tried to justify the reasons why she was so afraid of having a child with you. Because, somehow, her soul remembered that giving birth meant dying. And losing you."

Tōga's heart missed a beat, his eyes widening from shock.

"I… damn it would explain…"

"What ?" Gwen breathed, suspended to his every word.

He'd never spoken about it. To anyone. Shame and guilt had prevented him from opening up to anyone about this, but now…

"I had just left to war. Izayoi… she found out she was pregnant. She had an abortion before I could return."

He couldn't afford to catch her gaze, right now. Didn't want to see pity reflected in her beautiful eyes.

"Captain," she whispered, her breath catching. "I'm… sorry."

Tōga steeled himself, and pushed the pain away to be dealt with later.

"Don't be," he told her, his voice commanding. "You shed a new light on this, a light that no therapist ever could, because the answers lie in the past. Thank you, Gwen, for everything you've done."

It felt like a goodbye. His heart constricted when he realised that, in a way, it was. When she yawned, pretexting she was dog tired, he settled the bill and offered to walk her home.

They meandered in the streets of London in silence, empty, vanquished. Gwen walked by his side with none of her usual sauntering. Everything had been said. The line in the sand, slowly eroded as they traded secrets and poured their souls to each other, was reforming so hastily that it felt like a desert's storm. Once more, a wall stood between the Captain and his recruit.

They stopped before her building, at the bottom of the steps, and he couldn't summon the will to smile. The emotional turmoil those last pages had left him in wasn't easily discarded; at the moment, he dwelt in the past as much as in the present. But in this tiny piece of present, Gwen was his anchor, his lifeline. She'd seen all of him, and despite all expectations, had refused to recoil at the weirdness of both his life and his past life.

The little lady gazed at him, so close, yet so far, her stormy eyes daring him to breach that line and wreak havoc upon the grains that kept it so unbreachable. But he wouldn't be the one to cross it. Tōga sighed; it was for the best. Gwen deserved better than to be a crutch, a tool to unearth past hurts. But for once, only this time, he wished the young woman wasn't so adept at reading his moods, so respectful of his wishes.

In his wildest dreams, she would push on her tip toes, grab his nape and pull him into a searing kiss that would obliterate his rational mind and allow him to feel the caring touch of a woman. He would be, once more, someone's best friend, confident, protector and lover. A mate.

Tōga's eyes zeroed on her lips, long enough for them to part, rosy petals that awaited the tender contact of another. Tearing his gaze from the tempting flesh, he traced the fine lines of her cheekbones until their eyes met.

She kept him captive, hope shining in her gaze until the words left his lips.

"G'night, Gwen."

Her shoulders hunched; he kicked himself for stifling the light in those stormy grey eyes he adored. Trying very hard not to think about the blue flecks that danced within when she smiled, Tōga repressed the urge to gather her in his arms and crush her lithe frame against his own.

Gwen's disappointment tore through the façade; she fled, climbing the steps of the three-story building. Then, she paused, and gave him one last wave. Tōga addressed her a rueful smile, still as a statue, hands firmly tucked into his pockets, hair bellowing in the breeze. He had no idea how she would remember this image her whole life.

With those writing finished, and his death acknowledged, there were no reasons left to meet. And he… he was authorised to mourn, now. For his past life, and the loss of his ex-wife. For the first time in the past ten years, Tōga felt ready to face the grief and wrestle it into the ground until nothing was left but dust dissolving in the wind.

And so, with the Inu no Taisho laid to rest, there we no more meetings at the teashop.

I wasn't expecting this when I wrote this chapter. It is so emotionally charged that I cried, honestly.