Decoction

All the days in the monastery Inuyasha sat on a tree. He almost didn't get down, but no one called him — the monks were wary of him. The boy felt as alien as he did in the house where he lived with his mother. He didn't want to wake up anymore, he just wanted to wait for someone, but there was no one. So Inuyasha just sat there, looking at the snow and sometimes losing himself in sleep.

So several hopeless cold weeks passed in the monastery, and now he lay on the hard floor of the cave, mortally tired. His claws were sharpened on the rocks — Inuyasha fought for several hours. No result. His chest was still heaving restlessly when the stone that closed the cave moved aside and a bright light fell on his face. There was a blast of cold, the smell of snow, blood and...

Inuyasha didn't believe it, wrinkled and didn't open his eyes — just closed them tighter. Stubbornly. He didn't care: he decided that it was even better this way. If only it all happened faster. If only the dream really was eternal, and he didn't have to wake up.

Ongokuki appeared suddenly — a blow from a yoki whip was enough to blow off the demon's head. Only then Inuyasha shuddered and jumped up, looking around in fear. Sesshomaru glanced at him, and the hanyou glanced at his brother.

Mokomoko fell to the floor of the cave.

"Hold on."

…

The fever didn't go down. Refusal to eat, sleeping on a tree in snowy weather, and then a night in a cold cave — the little hanyo's yoki wasn't enough to stay healthy. From time to time, Inuyasha's eyes opened heavily as if he was making sure that he wasn't alone. Sesshomaru was throwing wood on the fire and wrapping him in his fur. Inuyasha smelled just like people smell when they have a fever.

By the morning Sesshomaru admitted:

"I don't know how to cure you."

It was difficult to accept that you, the son of a great dog demon, do not know what every human knows. No sooner had Inuyasha returned than he was making Sesshomaru feel humiliated.

"Boar and carp liver," the boy muttered, then stopped to take a breath and clear his throat, and continued hoarsely: "bird liver and licorice root, oregano..."

"What is this?" Sesshomaru listened, still looking into the fire.

"Mother... made a decoction. Mom..."

Inuyasha whimpered quietly: apparently, due to his illness, he could not contain himself. He had never cried in front of his brother, mentioning his mother. Although Sesshomaru knew that he was crying while he was bathing in a stream alone, or going off to play, but in reality, he was sitting behind some boulder and choking on his tears. This puppy hadn't figured out how perfect Sesshomaru's scent was.

Inuyasha made an effort and turned away from the fire, hiding his face in the fur.

"A decoction, then," Sesshomaru repeated thoughtfully, looking at the boy's trembling shoulders, and then at his deadly-sharp claws, shining in the morning light like pearlescent shells.

He never used them to cut grass like some priestess: demons cut open the bellies of other demons, not mow down oregano. Moreover, it cannot be found in winter.

Sesshomaru sighed. He himself agreed to this burden — the responsibility is also his.

"I'll be back soon."

Inuyasha's ears, which had been pressed against his head, perked up. Forgetting that he was hiding his tears, the boy turned around sharply, showing his swollen eyes and nose.

"Don't go..."

"I can hear demons several jo away. And you too."

Shy realization appeared in the boy's eyes. Sesshomaru stood up and a second later he was already flying away from the clearing with the burning fire. No, he won't ask the child not to cry, but if Inuyasha finally decides to pull himself together, that would be helpful.

In the end, Sesshomaru didn't shed a tear when he knew of his father's death.

Let this puppy be the same.

…

"Your claws smell like oregano."

Sesshomaru looked at his hand again — after he had taken out all the ingredients, dumped them into the cauldron and gave the child a sickening decoction to drink. He had to go down to the local village to pick up dried herbs from a priestess.

"It's much better than blood."