For the moment, though, she was happy to see him resting.
Another quarter hour passed until someone slid a paper under their western-style door stating that breakfast was ready. Gwen arose as silently as possible to fetch the tray from the corridor. The subtle notes of green tea rose from the pot, and she smiled; was it a Japanese thing to serve, or did they know what Tōga enjoyed ? At any rate, she would be happy to share the fresh brew with him.
As she retreated to their bed, tray in hand, Gwen found a set of sleepy golden eyes observing her.
"Sorry, did I wake you ?"
"No. The woman in the corridor did."
Eyebrows climbing, Gwen almost whistled. Would she ever get used to Tōga's sharp senses ? Panic replaced wonder the instant he started to fumble to sit.
"Wait !" she cried, setting the tray upon a table.
Tōga scowled, the first words of a scolding mumbled under his breath. The pain interrupted his rant as swiftly as a crack of thunder when his ribs cried in agony. Gwen's arms were around his shoulders at once, a frown marring her lovely face.
"You shouldn't do that yet !" she hissed, arranging cushions to support his back before she helped him settle in a semi seated position. Tōga sighed; she was stronger than she looked, in both body and mind. Fighting would be setting down the field for a defeat. Thoroughly chastised, the former general winced and found a position where his body didn't scream bloody murder. A soon as he had settled, a cup of soothing tea appeared before his nose.
"There. A cup of tea, and pain medication will do wonders to your mood."
"Gomen, Gwen."
The frown eased up a little, but a line remained in between her grey eyes.
"Never mind. I understand."
And she did, for sure. But he still wished she didn't have to care for an invalid. An invalid that should have popped the question instead of being beaten to an inch of his death. Gwen should now be drowning in the happiness of a newly engaged woman, not fearing to see him in pain. Mulling over his sombre thoughts, Tōga did not realise he'd zoned out until a kiss landed upon his brow.
"Hey, I love you", she breathed, warmth spreading along his cheek. "Will you have breakfast with me ?"
Those three little words felt so natural; they swelled in his chest like a soothing balm and the former general managed to muster a smile. At loss of words, he grunted his approval and grabbed a pair of chopsticks. The tamagoyaki tasted so good, his tongue remembering the exact same flavours from his childhood visits to Japan.
They ate in companionable silence and he thanked the Kami that Gwen wasn't the type to chat his ear off just to fill the void. Of course, a music lover would know the great importance of silence. For the same reason darkness only enhanced light, those moments of pause could count a whole new tale on their own.
Hence, he did not expect the swift knock on the door and the irruption of his eldest son. Sesshōmaru looked like he had just swallowed something sour – not that he usually radiated warmth. Behind him trailed a youth with the characteristic hair of his bloodline, and a sheepish expression that bordered on terrified. A pronounced limp caused Tōga to set his bowl of miso soup down and lift interrogative eyes to Sesshōmaru. The head of the Taishō clan loomed dangerously over the youth, breathing down his neck with the ire of a dragon.
He expected the gangly young man to introduce himself, but the kid sucked in a sharp breath when he spotted the many bruises upon his skin. Brown eyes widened and his head dropped.
"Oh my, they really did a number on you."
A sharp slap echoed in the room, the movement too quick for his eyes. But the wince that followed didn't fool anyone.
"Ouch ! Sesshomaru-sama, did you have to hit so hard ? Again ?"
"If you don't regret your actions, nearly not enough", he growled.
A giggle rose from his side, and his shoulders loosened at the sound of Gwen's amusement. She brought such joy to his life, he couldn't believe she was here, with him, in the den of yōkai and hanyous. So when Tōga's attention returned to the young man, he found the boy massaging his skull under Sesshōmaru's glare.
"I regret them, alright !" he whined. The glare intensified, and the young man nearly crumbled upon himself.
"This attack was rendered possible by your negligence," Sesshōmaru seethed, his yōki filling the room oppressively. Gwen shivered by his side; despite her human heritage, she could feel the insane amount of power that now swirled around the irate daiyōkai. Golden eyes turned to him, pupils slit in contempt.
"Chichi-ue, here stands Yoshi. That baka is your genitor."
Gwen lifted an eyebrow. This was Tōga's father ?
"Wait, I though you were named Tōga as well", she blurted out.
The youngster sheepishly huffed.
"I loved the nickname…"
Nickname ? Well, that was fairly anti-climatic. They looked nothing alike, especially since the youngster didn't seem a day over twenty-five. Sure, there was a slight bulk, and his height, and the moon spun hair. As for the rest… it seemed like the Inu no Taishō had just borrowed the convenient genes in the pool to reincarnate as he was. An impressive, beautiful man with a heart of gold.
Tōga started, his eyes set upon the slip of a boy that now struggled to kneel in seiza – had he taken a beating ? Her lover's expression was closed off, but Gwen felt easily the confused vibes that oozed out of him; he didn't quite know what to make of that.
Slowly, Yoshi lowered his head to the ground, touching his hands in the most respectful bow she'd ever seen. One that you would give a sensei high above your station, or an emperor.
The legends of the Inu no Taishō were vivid, inflated by seven hundred years of absence. Like a pebble rolling down a mountain, the lores had grown and spread wide. Who could live up to that ? To be the father of such a legend ? And why was Sesshomaru so adamant that the attack had been the kid's fault ?
"Gomen nasai, Tōga-sama", came his heartfelt plea.
Gwen watched as Tōga nodded; not that Yoshi could see it. The silence settled, for a while, and she stole a glance at the daiyōkai. When he was pissed, Sesshōmaru's presence became nearly unbearable. Far from the erratic yōki of his half-brother, his energy swirled like a supernova, concentrated to the extreme. Gwen's heart stuttered and she wondered how yōki sensitive people could sustain such a presence; it felt like she was about to be swallowed whole, or blown to bits.
Eventually, Tōga seemed to find the appropriate words. Or perhaps he'd considered that his genitor had suffered long enough to learn his lesson.
"Rise, Yoshi," he said, his voice regal. "I shall not ask you to take my father's place. I have been gifted with the very best in your absence."
Gwen smiled softly; Tōga had been privileged enough to have a real father figure as a kid. A man now deceased, but with all the wisdom of an elder. It was probably what made him such a good man as well; Tōga's human psyche had been shaped appropriately, with both love and drive, encouragement and a healthy amount of censure.
Yoshi struggled to his feet and sighed.
"Gomen. I really didn't know you existed until three days ago."
Three days ago ? Gwen scrunched her eyebrows, remembering a conversation she'd overheard on the plane. She had been so glad, at the time, not to be the recipient of Sesshōmaru's ire. The threat laced words still echoed in her mind.
"You will fly in, pup, or I shall disown you and erase your family tree from the Taishō clan."
Ah, so Yoshi was the one he had been talking to. Poor kid, the whole line would always remember him as the guy who stuck his dick in a random woman to recreate the Inu no Taishō. Tough life indeed.
But Tōga was a merciful man, and he gestured for his genitor to take a seat beside them.
"So, tell me about the woman who birthed me."
What could have been uttered as a command came, instead, as a gentle suggestion to bridge the gap between them. Whether he retained it form his past life or the present one, Tōga was as approachable as he was formidable… if he wanted to be. And while Yoshi recalled fond – if distant – memories of Jessica Hopson, Gwen poured another cup of green tea and dropped it in the hands of a surprised daiyōkai before he could retreat.
"Can you explain what you meant ? About the attack ?" she asked.
Tōga slide a glance her way but his attention didn't stray from Yoshi. Side by side, the contrast was even more striking. One held himself like a general, despite his injuries. The other sat awkwardly, shifting like a schoolboy. To think he'd been able to sire Tōga was overwhelmingly ridiculous.
Sesshōmaru watched them intently, and despite his impassive mask, she bet he saw the exact same thing.
"Every pup is looked after by the clan. We provide guidance and protection to those of mixed blood, hide their difference from the ningen world and keep our own doctors, and our own counsel."
Gwen nodded, remembering that Tōga had mentioned maturing later than others due to his slow aging. If the yōkai community had its own physicians, he would have known what to expect instead of being regarded as a freak. Thank God his father was intuitive enough to take him out of school for a few years. She shuddered to think the research that could be performed on those of mixed blood if they were ever discovered.
"To keep the secret ?"
Sesshōmaru took a sip of his tea, a fang poking over his lower lip. His nod was almost imperceptible.
"To ease the pup's upbringing."
Her eyes, irremediably, returned to Tōga. The bruises upon his neck and cheek were fading now. The trauma would remain forever, irremediably carved in her mind. To see him so broken, on the brink of death, was something she never wanted to experience again. Finding her dead mother had been a gruesome experience, one she still dreamt of occasionally.
But parents represented the past. One day, all parents died. Tōga, on the other hand, was her future. Without him… she couldn't imagine how she would survive.
Gwen understood, then, why the head of the Taishō clan was so pissed. By failing to recognise his son, Yoshi had put not only the secret of all yōkai in danger but also Tōga's very existence. If the former general had been guided from birth, he would never have joined the army, or published those stories. He would have known his heritage from the start and trained to accommodate it.
"You look after your own," the young woman murmured.
There was no verbal response from the daiyōkai by her side, but his energy settled. And thus, she understood what made Sesshōmaru, head of the Taisho clan, push forward in his life. He had something to protect.