For the LOVE of my Mother and Grandmother…

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Chapter 14

Oshun stood by the waterside, her fingers grazing the surface of the cool stream as she tried to center herself. Her silhouette reflected in the shimmering surface, still and graceful like a statue carved from shadow and light. The soft ripple of the water brushed against the shore, mirroring the unspoken thoughts that stirred within her. The late afternoon sunbathed the landscape in a warm, golden glow. Oshun's expression remained unreadable, her eyes distant, as though she were gazing into something far beyond the horizon.

Her task was clear. She was to heal Sesshomaru of this mysterious ailment that left him feral and physically sick. But the weight of her own tumultuous emotions threatened to cloud her vision. Her skin ghosted with the lightest touch of his skin and the powerful aura that once curled around her. It lingered a whole day later as Sesshomaru lay slumbering in the old hut on the jungled hill. Her eyes traced the water that lapped at her skin. It spoke to her. Whispered its desires. A reflection of her own. The mystical energy of the land whispered to her, reminding her of the life force that connected them all. Yet, the force of her memories struck her the hardest.

Oshun had gathered, that something happened to Rin later in life. But what did that have to do with Sesshomaru's situation today? She noticed he had not shared with her anything of his present, not even Rin whom they now share a bond. A shiver ran up her spine from the possible morbid conclusion that she was afraid to voice. That Rin…had passed. And maybe her passing was somewhere in his memories. Maybe in the past or the present. One did not live as long as Sesshomaru did and not be touched by some piece of devastation or loss. No one is immune to the happenings of life. She would know.

She had come to terms with her mother's death years ago, or so she thought. Her mother had been more than just a mystic. She was the pillar of their community, a healer who sacrificed so much of herself for others. The community had hailed her as their savior, but to Oshun, she was simply Mama. Watching her mother wither away, offering the last of her strength to save the very people who had always demanded more, was a wound that had never healed.

Her chest tightened as the familiar pain surfaced again, uninvited. Her mother's death had felt like a sacrificial offering, one that the community expected. They called her noble, but Oshun saw her as a lamb led to slaughter. And now, as she prepared to help Sesshomaru, she couldn't ignore the parallel between Rin's tender care for him and her own fierce love for her father, Obatala. Oshun sighed feeling the water pull with her emotions. She said her prayers and relinquished the tides. Her feet dug into the wet sand to ground herself and her temper.

Her parents gave everything to her, her siblings, and the community. Her siblings left to rage wars, grow prosperous, lead on their own, and do other things. But they were quick to call on their parents when things became too much. They asked for so much. Her mother and father gave willingly and even consulted with love first. But that did nothing. Her siblings still fought. And fought each other over petty things. Most never have returned to their island in light years of time. Only she returned and stayed…and helped. But seeing the cycle that she felt destroyed her mother made her…resentful.

The weight of it all pressed against her spirit. What if I lose him too? She thought, her eyes flickering with the same fear that Rin carried for Sesshomaru. Oshun had always known her father's power was immense, and yet, she had seen it slowly drain with time and responsibility. The love Rin showed toward Sesshomaru was no different from the fierce devotion Oshun felt for Obatala, a fear that his role as a protector and healer could one day claim him as it had her mother.

She closed her eyes, feeling the energy pulse from the earth into her body. Her mother had taught her this. How to harness strength from the land, from the ancestors, and from herself. She could heal Sesshomaru, she knew this, but it was not without its risks. Healing often requires one to give of themselves. One had to be clear-minded and rooted in the magic. Life is precious and it needed special care when healing. But if she was able to do it…to heal Sesshomaru. Would he allow it? Would he tell her if he knew what the problem was? Sesshomaru's pride wouldn't allow him to show his weakness, but Oshun could feel it buried beneath his stoic exterior.

As she gathered her thoughts, she acknowledged the connection between them all.

The love of a child for a parent.

The fear of loss.

The act of losing beyond control.

The weight of sacrifice.

"Baba", She whispered to herself, drawing on the strength he had given her. Oshun blew out a gentle breath. Her long braids, adorned with gold and seashells, hung over her shoulders, swaying gently with the breeze. The soft fabric of her purple sundress clung to her form, catching the wind, while her bare feet sank slightly into the damp earth beneath her. She knelt slowly, trailing her fingertips through the cool, clear water. Her reflection was bare to her in the small lapping of the waves on the shore.

Oshun couldn't save her mother, but she still had her father. There was healing there. In theory, if she could help Sesshomaru by uncovering the illness connection to Rin, she could save him. She had a theory that his illness was self-inflicted from trauma or loss. But maybe she could prevent him from feeling the same devastating loss that had haunted her. Then perhaps in some way, it would heal a part of her too. But first, she had to confront her fear. Healing requires more than skill. It required vulnerability.

"My water bearer! Ja!"

Oshun spun around to see her father casually walking up the shore to her. His long locs were twisted on top of his head. The fringes were left to blow in the cool breeze. The smile on his face was warm as he approached with his cane holding him. His shaggy clothing hung off his seemingly frail body like a scarecrow. Yet, his expression was so vibrant and warming, she could hardly focus on his physical demeanor. Concern brushed her nerves as she walked to him with a reprimand on her lips about him being up and walking around so far from the village.

"Baba!" She yelled as he simply reached for her and hugged her to him. She stumbled a bit from the force.

"Oshun! Daughter. Praise Jah!" He shouted and pulled back to look her over. "The Council had told me of your successes. You have broken the dog's fever. Very well done."

Oshun opened her mouth and closed it. She shook her head violently in denial. "Baba! I'm trying but…" Oshun looked down into the ocean searching for words.

"You are learning de way." He gripped her shoulders. His smile seemed to have grown. "Healing is reciprocal. It pulls from a source whether it be spiritual or physical or your Western way. You will see and do things that take from you to do this work. You must ground yourself little one. Prepare your resolve. Prepare de heart." He emphasized by pointing his finger into her chest. "But I see you on well on your way. I had a vision last night. One that brought me much joy. But I want to how you move before I speak of it."

Oshun drew a deep breath, steadying herself. The affirmation did her good to hear from her father. But her worries were there clouding her vision. She couldn't possibly lay them at his feet. He needed to be free and clear to heal himself. She would not risk losing him under any circumstances. The loss of her mother was quite enough. "I'm trying, Baba." She muttered again. "He's not a bad person. But something he is hiding. Something about a little girl that feels like a daughter that is affecting him so."

"Ah!" Obatala nodded. "A father's love and cross. A daughter." He smiled looking at her pouting face.

"I'm serious! But what would make him physically ill like this? I don't understand the physical illness and its relationship to this little girl that's like his daughter named Rin!" She stomped her feet on the sand and the waves brushed back from her anger.

Obatala looked out at the water and whistled. "Maybe you should reflect more on your experiences. You and the dog share a connection in your grief. Maybe…you should dig there." He backed away and held his hands up. "Here is a question for you…is it an illness or a symptom?" He walked to her and kissed her on her temple. "Keep going with humility and love. Let Jah lead." Obatala released her and began making his way back up the shore in the sinking sun.

Oshun tilted her head. "A symptom?" She muttered. "Then the cause would be emotional. But he's so emotionally constipated that-"

Oshun stopped at that sentence. She replayed everything in her mind. Every encounter. He was strong. Silent. Brooding. But never did he have an outbreak. Never did she see him have a moment where he was anything but a strong rock. Even in her vulnerability, he was like a root for her to latch on to. Outside of that the only emotion she had seen him serve was rage and violence. And he was a living breathing being.

"What if…he's hurting? And he's hurting because of Rin." She wondered out loud. Her face went into shock. Sesshomaru loved her as much as a daughter whether he admitted it or not. "Are you…grieving? Or refusing to? Are you hurting because you're in mourning?" Oshun paced the shores for many a time. The moon had risen, and the waters had turned cold. A path had been worn in the sand. A few elders had come down to offer council, conch salad, and water. Their input only guided her to the same gut feeling that she had before.

She believed…Sesshomaru was grieving. And maybe….he was…possibly….self-destructing.

Oshun sat cross-legged on the sun-dappled veranda of her secluded rental home, the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore a soothing contrast to the whirlwind of thoughts in her mind. The soft breeze carried the scent of saltwater and jasmine, but her attention was wholly focused on the phone in her hand, the glow of its screen casting a soft light on her face as she scrolled through endless pages of information.

Her island, usually a place of serenity and retreat, felt like an unlikely backdrop for this kind of research. Yet here she was, diving deep into the complexities of Sesshomaru's life in the modern world, trying to piece together everything she could about this ancient demon who now wielded power in the realms of business and politics. And who also lay in need of her heling power.

The connection was slow, but it worked well enough to pull up articles, news reports, and forums dedicated to the enigmatic figure that Sesshomaru had become. Each headline seemed more imposing than the last:

"The Silent Titan: Sesshomaru's Global Business Empire Expands"

"The Demon CEO: Sesshomaru's Unmatched Influence in Policy and Power"

Her eyes skimmed the words, absorbing the facts as her mind tried to reconcile the ancient warrior, she knew with the modern-day figure who commanded a global empire. The contrast between the ruthless demon lord of legend and the polished business magnate before her now was staggering. Yet, beneath the corporate titles, polished suits, and the formal yukatas she could sense the same untamed force that had always made him so formidable.

Images flashed on the screen. Sesshomaru at high-level meetings with world leaders, at charity galas, surrounded by hundreds of clan warriors at his side or giving rare interviews. His face was still as unreadable as ever. His golden eyes were sharp and unyielding. The faint markings on his cheeks were visible in the sterile lighting of the modern world. He looked ageless, untouched by time, standing apart from the humans around him, even when surrounded by them. Yet she could see the sharp lines of his jaw. The cut of his bangs left to grow out. The lines tugged at the sides of his eyelids. He was older than the version she knew.

Oshun leaned back slightly, letting her phone rest on her lap as she stared out over the ocean, her mind drifting. She was used to dealing with the extraordinary, but Sesshomaru was something different altogether. The weight of centuries, of battles fought, and worlds conquered, hung over him. But here he was. He was here navigating the intricacies of modern life with the same cold efficiency that had defined his past.

She couldn't help but wonder what drove him now. Hell…what drove him then? Besides the protection of his lands and pack. Had something shifted in him over the years? Some softer, more human motivation that allowed him to engage with the world in this way? Her thoughts drifted to Rin, the human girl who had once been at his side. Oshun suspected that she still held a place in Sesshomaru's heart, even if it was hidden beneath layers of stoicism.

Flipping back to her phone, she found herself diving into deeper, more obscure corners of the web. Blogs written by folklore enthusiasts, forums filled with speculation about his demonic nature and genes. Some theorized that Sesshomaru was still the same cold, calculating demon he had always been. While others believed that time among humans had changed him and softened him.

Oshun wasn't sure what to believe, but one thing was clear: Sesshomaru remained a mystery, even to those who thought they knew him. As she continued her search, scrolling through article after article, she realized that her task wasn't just about healing him physically. If she was to truly help him, she needed to understand the layers beneath the surface. The history, the pain, the motivations that made Sesshomaru who he was today.

Oshun grew strength from this thought. Sesshomaru had adapted seamlessly, though not by abandoning his ancient roots. Instead, he had fused his knowledge of old-world honor and discipline with the cold, strategic acumen needed to thrive in the realms of modern business and politics. His reputation, both feared and revered, stretched far beyond the boardrooms and government halls of Japan. Globally, he was recognized as an influential figure, a strategic mind whose involvement in policy or business decisions could sway entire economies. He was often called in to work on policy rights for demons internationally. The western territory or his clan's territory spanned much of the outer banks of Tokyo in the Nagano, Nigata, Gifu, Ishikawa, and Toyama areas. Demon sanctuaries thrived on his lands with his clan holding considerable amounts of wealth and ownership. His clan was rather large and well-known as well. A mix of humans, demons, and everything else in between. Dog demons. All of them are involved in policy rights, medicine, education, and the arts. Pictures of his mother, his sibling, his nieces and nephews, and…grandchildren…and great great great-children that he claimed under the Western House of the Moon.

She compared the notes to who he was now. Sesshomaru was different. This version refused to eat. He lay in fever sweats. He woke up with rubicund eyes sometimes and feral. His body was so drained he literally couldn't do anything about his anger. Yet he brought his sword and a few of his belongings to the island. He was nothing compared to the Google search version of him. Her heart is pained at this. Her mind went down rabbit holes until she came upon the name of Rin.

Rin's older face shined. She aged beautifully. Faster than her father but still young. Her skin and the laugh lines around her eyes spoke volumes of the joyous life she lived. Here she was in photos with diplomats, schools, charity visits, and town halls defending her children, family, and community. Rin specifically was at the hospitals doing volunteer runs. She voiced the need for mothers to be with their children and for fathers to have paternal time with their children. She was seen with the entire Tashio Clan wearing traditional kimonos holding onto her mate and children with bright eyes. And then there were the headlines that soon followed…

Rin died from the most recent pandemic.

Oshun sat frozen, her breath catching in her throat as the words settled over her like a cold, suffocating mist. Rin is gone. The news struck her with the force of a blow she hadn't seen coming, leaving her world tilted and fragile. Her heart pounded in her chest, its rhythm out of sync with the stillness that surrounded her, and the weight of grief began to drag her down like an anchor tied to her soul. The phone dropped to her lap.

She hadn't expected this. She hadn't prepared for the shock of losing someone so closely tied to the very essence of Sesshomaru's being. The shock of losing someone she was growing to love. Or that she did love. Rin was a little girl. But in this life, she was a grown woman married to a full demon. Her life span had extended but she wasn't immortal or invincible. Oshun's hands trembled, and she clenched them into fists as though trying to hold onto something, anything, that could ground her at this moment. But the reality of Rin's death felt too vast, too consuming. It was unthinkable. This bright, loving girl…no woman. A daughter who had meant so much to Sesshomaru, to the world around her, lost to a faceless pandemic that had taken so many.

A sharp gasp escaped her lips, the first sign of the tears that burned behind her eyes. Oshun felt her energy leave her and she sank to the ground, her fingers clutching the wooden panels beneath her as if to keep herself from unraveling. The wood felt cold and indifferent beneath her touch, a stark contrast to the warmth Rin had always carried with her. She was so full of life, how could she be gone? Oshun's thoughts raced, but her body remained paralyzed, trapped in the suffocating grip of disbelief.

She tried to summon the strength she had always relied on, the inner resilience that had seen her through countless challenges. But this was different. This was not a wound she could heal with her hands, nor a loss she could soothe with her magic. It was the kind of grief that tore through the heart, leaving jagged scars that time alone couldn't mend. The grief that reminded her of her mother. Rin was a healer and lover of people. It would make sense she would give to her detriment. But she wouldn't know. She couldn't have known. Nobody knew the devastation until it happened and it was too late.

The thought of Sesshomaru, the stoic, proud demon lord…grieving Rin's death weighed even heavier on her.

What must he be feeling?

How could anyone console him when he had lost the one person who softened the edges of his world?

A sob tore from her throat, and the floodgates opened. Oshun wept, her body trembling with the force of it, the tears falling freely down her cheeks. For Rin. For Sesshomaru. For the countless lives that had been claimed by the relentless, unseen plague. For her mother who died healing others much like Rin did. But beneath it all, there was a deeper, more personal ache. Oshun had understood Rin. She had seen the depth of her love for Sesshomaru, felt the echoes of that same love in her own heart for her father, Obatala. And now, Rin was gone, just like her mother had been taken. Another light extinguished in the name of sacrifice, leaving only memories and broken hearts behind.

As the grief washed over her, Oshun clung to the one truth that remained: she would honor Rin's memory, however she could. She would start by walking Sesshomaru through his losses in time. And then being whatever he needed her to be for him. But for now, all she could do was grieve. Grieve and let herself feel the sharp, unrelenting pain of another loss. And hopefully learn to heal this time so she could heal the dog as well.

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