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Chapter 15

She could do this. This time…she would call his victory over life.

As dawn's light began to filter softly into the old hut on the jungle hill, Oshun moved with quiet purpose. She gathered the sacred tools she would need to heal Sesshomaru. The windows let in the gentle breeze and the sounds of inquiring trees as they leaned in to see inside. Her movements were methodical, each step taken with reverence as she arranged herbs and roots along the wooden floor. The air around her was thick with anticipation, heavy with the energies she called upon in her mumblings. Even the walls of the hut held their breath in deference to the ritual she was preparing. The space around them expanded and anticipated her moves.

In the center of the room, she laid down a woven mat, patterned with symbols of protection and renewal. This would serve as the heart of the ritual. The focal point where all energies would converge. She had learned from her community, communed with her father, and ate breakfast with her mother's spirit that early morning. She placed a small, smooth stone at each corner of the mat. Each stone was carefully chosen and imbued with the elemental forces of earth, air, fire, and the biggest stone carrying her nature's tongue…water. She had gathered these herself, an offering from the land, each one a piece of the world's raw power that would be woven into Sesshomaru's healing and her journey.

She had mourned those last couple of days. The grief still was raw, but she felt better having lain her fears out before the world. The selfishness she felt was there. She just couldn't have Rin enduring what she felt. The crushing blows of grief rendered her heart broken and shattered into pieces. The sadness that clamored at her throat on nights when she could barely breathe. The anger she felt at the world and her siblings for constantly taking and never understanding that it came with consequences. She wouldn't say that she was beyond it. But she knew it. She confronted it. And she worked to at least let it go and hold onto the virtuous spirit of her mother rather than live in the chaos of her loss.

Oshun's fingers lingered over a small, ornate bowl made from polished obsidian, its surface dark and reflective. She poured clear spring water into it. She murmured an ancient prayer as she held the bowl close to her lips, her breath casting a faint mist over its surface. The water was a symbol of life and restoration. A vessel to carry her intent and energy. She placed the water over her head and started the head-washing ritual to feed her spirit and refresh them both. Gently, she placed the bowl in the center of the mat, directly before where Sesshomaru would soon lay.

Next, Oshun took bundles of dried herbs…basil, sage, mint, rosemary, and frankincense and lit them, waving them slowly in a clockwise motion to cleanse the space. A thin line of smoke curled through the air, trailing her movements, filling the hut with a fragrant scent both calming and grounding. She whispered words of protection as she circled the mat, calling upon the ancestors, spirits, and deities who watched over her lineage to lend their strength and guidance. The smoke created a thin veil around her, a protective barrier against the energies that threatened Sesshomaru's life. The air shifted towards the demon sitting against the wall eyeing her carefully. The barrier waivered telling her that they were safe, yet the true chaos was that coming from within.

Finally, she retrieved a golden cord from her satchel. A sacred item woven by her own hands and infused with energy over many moonlit nights. The cord represented the bond between healer and healed, the thread that would tether Sesshomaru's spirit to this realm while she ventured into the deepest layers of his soul. It would hold him steady, like an anchor to keep him grounded as she worked to expel the sickness that lingered within him. To speak to his memories and to his beast. To calm the thrashing of the beast within and try to get the dog to rest and allow for healing. Oshun held the cord in her hands, her eyes closing as she imbued it with her intent, her energy flowing through it as if it were an extension of herself.

She took a final moment to steady herself. Breathing deeply, feeling the rhythm of her heart beat strong and sure within her chest. Her connection to Sesshomaru had deepened over their journey. She knew that his survival now depended on his willingness to trust her with his thoughts and wellness. To let her reach into the recesses of his being and heal what lay beyond the physical. To do this she needed to share her grief. The powerlessness she had found. Yet reveal to him the hope and love that was at the end if he latched on to take it.

She looked at the special note she held to her body and the recipe she hid at her side. She studied it again. Memorizing as much history as she could about Japan and the medicine, he needed to know to protect all that he cared about. Maybe he could do what she could not. Maybe, if she told him more…he could change things. He could save Rin. She knew the dangers of what she was about to attempt. Changing the course of history was a dangerous business. Her father warned her that if the word was spoken…regardless of whatever she did…nothing would stop the definitive pen strokes of fate. But she had to do something. She had to save Rin's life. Oshun understood the ramifications. She couldn't outright intervene. She would be pulled back and made blind as magic always had repercussions for malpractice. But she could give a choice. With that, she focused on the task at hand and gave herself a cleansing breath.

Oshun crossed the room to where Sesshomaru sat, his gaze sharp and unreadable, but she could sense the turmoil beneath his composed exterior. She held out her hand, offering him a silent invitation to join her in the ritual space she had so carefully prepared.

"Lie here with me." She said softly, gesturing to the mat. Her voice was steady, but there was a gentleness in her tone. An unspoken assurance that she would guide him through this. Together. "The time has come to confront what lies within."

Sesshomaru's eyes met hers. His beast was at the surface. It rattled at the chains and shook the cage. He could feel his mind shift as each day had passed. His body lost more and more strength and muscle as he sat in the stark halls of his failures. The memories of his losses became more frequent as the days passed during Oshun's preparation. Sesshomaru reached for her hand with acquiescence. Her small warm hand grounded him as she pulled him up with suprising strength. He steeled himself for the ritual, he felt a shift within his heart, a tentative acceptance of the path before him.

He moved forward as she offered. His warm handheld hers securely. Lying down on the mat, his silver hair fanned out like a halo against the woven fabric. Oshun knelt beside him, the golden cord in her hands, and she began to chant softly, a steady rhythm of words in her native tongue that resonated like a heartbeat through the room. She washed his forehead in the cool water and started the process.

Oshun draped the cord across his chest, a physical and spiritual tether binding him to this world, to her. As her words filled the air, she placed her hands gently on his heart, feeling the faint pulse of his energy beneath her palms. Slowly, she let her own energy flow into him, seeking the sickness that clung to his spirit, the dark presence that had threatened his life.

Her vision blurred, and in her mind's eye, she could see the shadowy remnants of battles past, scars left on his soul from years of conflict and grief. Memories of Rin drifted in and out, her face a soft light in the darkness. Oshun could feel the weight of Sesshomaru's pain, the wounds he had never allowed to heal, the lingering resentment and sorrow that had festered within him. His beast roared in her ears as she released it from its confines. She saw fragments of the past he had never spoken of, the burdens he had carried alone, and she felt the raw ache of his loneliness and his self-deprecation tucked tightly behind the barriers of stoicism and aloofness. His strength and power were the mote between the emotions he buried and the loss of so many lives in his clan. The weight he bore for all of this for centuries choked her into a pause before she rallied herself again.

As she chanted, Oshun's energy became a balm, soothing the jagged edges of his spirit. She reached into the depths of his soul to draw out the sickness that had taken root. She felt his heart respond to her touch, his energy shifting as he allowed her presence to permeate his barriers. Her connection to him was deepening with each breath. Her spirit intertwined with his. She felt his resistance but also his acceptance, his growing trust. She lay next to him and looked into his blood-red eyes before they closed, and he fell into slumber. She reached up and stroked his cheek while still holding onto his hand before the world around her went black again.

In Sesshomaru's Past

As Oshun settled into the rhythm of the ritual, her spirit attuned to Sesshomaru's. Her consciousness began to drift, drawn deeper into his essence. Like threads in an ancient tapestry, his memories unfurled before her. Each one was woven with intricate emotion echoing the power, supremacy, and isolation that defined him. She chose to methodically go backward until she came to his more present memories.

The first memory she entered was stark and cold. The mist-drenched mountains of the West shifted beyond the horizon. The Western Shiro looked so small so far away from where he stood. The iciness of the mountain dew clutched to her skin as she stood and looked to him with curiosity and empathy. She saw Sesshomaru as a young demon lord, standing alone on a peak, his silver hair flowing in the wind as he gazed out over his lands with an expression that was both fierce and distant. His aura was suffused with pride, but beneath it lay a loneliness that tugged at Oshun's heart. Now that he allowed himself to be open to her task, she could feel everything. She could feel the weight of responsibility he bore. The quiet resignation that no one would ever stand at his side and carry the weight. Echoes of the loss of his father and the choices and sins that trickled down to the sons. The responsibilities that lay at his feet. She felt the need to run and be free into nature. An almost avoidant behavior for the title demands placed upon him suddenly. She felt it all. Anger…resentment…resistance.

As she moved further, another memory pulled her in. A memory laced with fury and purpose. It was a battlefield littered with fallen enemies, the scent of blood hanging heavy in the air. Sesshomaru stood among the remains, his armor glistening under a blood-red sunset. His face was emotionless, his eyes cold and calculating as he looked upon the carnage he had wrought. Oshun stepped around the bodies and the fire that licked the fringes of her ceremonial white dress. The cowries and gold trinkets on her anklet chimed as she moved through. Her eyes looked to the tall demanding demon lord standing across from her. At that moment, he was an embodiment of power, untouchable and absolute, yet there was a flicker of something else beneath his stoic mask. An emptiness, a question of whether this unending conquest truly fulfilled him. Oshun felt the faint ache of disillusionment seeping through the cracks in his resolve. His eyes landed on her figure. A tilt of his head followed as he considered her for a moment. She murmured the practiced lines of her chant and watched as the world shifted again.

The memory shifted, pulling her into a softer, more vulnerable scene. A stark contrast from the carnage before. A lush green forest clearing bathed in moonlight. Where she saw a small human girl. Her dark hair framed her delicate face as she looked up at him with innocent wonder. Rin. Sesshomaru's eyes softened as he gazed down at her, his usual stoic demeanor melting away, if only for a moment. Oshun could feel his confusion, the struggle within him as he wrestled with this new sensation. Attachment, compassion, and perhaps even affection. She watched as he gently placed a flower in her hand, his silent acceptance of her presence marking a turning point in his life. This memory pulsed with tenderness, a stark contrast to the blood-soaked battlefields he was accustomed to.

Oshun came and sat down amongst the soft patch of grass and watched. He said nothing but his actions meant everything. The smile that blossomed across the little girl's face couldn't have been any grander. She looked at the seated dog demon as if her whole universe was born before her in that moment. And Oshun considered that maybe, it was. The connection between him and Rin touched something deep within Oshun's own heart, a reminder of the bonds that went beyond words or duty. She saw the cracks in his once-immovable walls, the softening of a heart that had once seemed unyielding. She sat there basking in his emotions and the peacefulness of such a moment. She wanted to defend it with everything she had knowing what was to come. Knowing what he felt prior and after. But she needed to move. She had work to do.

Her journey took her next to the moment he wielded Tenseiga, the sword of healing. For the first time. She felt his hesitation, the initial rejection of a weapon without killing power. And then, as he saw the spirits of the dead hovering over a wounded Rin, a spark of determination burned away his reluctance. He swung the blade downward and the power of life surged through him, igniting a newfound purpose. Oshun felt the profound shift in him. The realization that he was capable of not only taking life but restoring it. The fierce prowess that it gave him then as he absorbed himself in a new light. His beast resonated with this duality. A silent acceptance of both his darkness and light. This duality spoke to him of a grand power untested and unchallenged. Tossing him into another stratosphere of power unimaginable. His allies and foes could not even attempt to stand on equal footing with this knowledge. She watched in fascination as Rin opened her eyes and breathed life. Her brown eyes turned to Sesshomaru. In that moment, she would see Sesshomaru reflected in himself through the eyes of Rin. In seeing his best, Sesshomaru saw the reflection of who he was and could be in hers.

The memory was of Naraku's defeat. Sesshomaru stood victorious, yet his gaze was not on his fallen foe. It was Rin he sought out in the crowd, his expression barely changing as he watched her, alive and safe. The faintest glimmer of relief crossed his face. A crack in his mask that only someone deeply attuned to him would notice. Oshun sensed his relief, his quiet satisfaction that she had survived another battle. He didn't smile, didn't speak, but his aura softened around her like a silent promise. His pack…his brother's pack…merged together as one.

She watched as they returned to the West. The portrait she saw and stopped in front of now revealed the demon that tied their fates. His father's secrets and histories were finally out to reconcile. The brothers shared a conversation that changed lives. Oshun felt the wrestling of emotions and shared pained pasts. The mistakes Sesshomaru made as he worked to make them right. She saw it all there before her. He stepped up then and became the Lord his lands needed. Something about ridding the world of evil put things into perspective for him. He had a pack to protect. Women and children that he knew shared space with him bringing new meaning to his life. The more people that joined his Clan and grew it, made his will stronger and his demonic nature more resolute in his desire to protect everything that belonged to him at all costs. That he was strong enough to beat anything that came his way.

Each memory left an indelible mark on Oshun's heart, revealing the pieces of Sesshomaru he had hidden away. The pain, the struggle, and the moments of vulnerability he would never admit. She knew then that his sickness was more than just an ailment of the body; it was the weight of a life lived in isolation, a life constantly torn between power and compassion, pride, and connection. And then the massive shift to provide and protect the people under his roof. The unique needs they had become his duty. And he did exceptionally well.

As she drifted back to the present, she brought with her an understanding of the complex layers within him. The powerful, untouchable warrior and the silent protector of those he cared for. The shining face of Rin as she was there through it all. Growing alongside him. Like a kaleidoscope of colors, it all passed through her eyes. Sometimes she took his notice, and he caught her scent. The confusion and question in his gaze followed her as he made moves to get to her or cast her from his mind believing her to be a specter. It wasn't until she passed the moments of conversation and late-night talks that he began to recognize her. His angered temperament and disregard for her existence are being replaced with something else. And then finally, she was caught up. And what she would see next…would break her heart.

Japan 1853 - Sesshomaru POV

In the depths of the night, the war room was a sanctuary of shadows. Its stone walls echoed the silent fury that radiated from Sesshomaru. His demonic aura swelled and filled the room. His brother and fellow allies had left to find reprieve and solace in their cups or their families. Flickering lanterns cast an eerie glow across the maps and scrolls littered on the table, their intricate details lost in obscurity. Outside, the sounds of distant conflict reverberated through the fortress, a haunting symphony of clashing steel and cries that lingered in the air. Sesshomaru stood alone, an imposing figure cloaked in the weight of his responsibilities and the fury that clawed at his insides.

His stoic visage, typically composed, was marred by an intensity that hinted at the chaos within. Golden eyes, usually unwavering, burned with a ferocity that could ignite the very air around him. He gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white against the dark wood. His thoughts of strategy and regret whirled chaotically in his mind. Claws dug into the grain and burned in the lines his hate and fury. Each breath he took was heavy with the stench of smoke and blood, an acrid reminder of the lives lost in the relentless pursuit of power of the Americans. He was a warlord, a demon lord, forged in the fires of battle. Yet tonight, the burden of leadership felt insurmountable.

His mind replayed the events of the day. The clan losses, the sacrifices, and the decisions made under the crushing weight of expectation. They won the battle but at what cost? Pups would have no father, brother, uncle, or the like. Daughters and nieces suffered as well and some fell to the blade while others were taken like exotic pets. A surge of anger coursed through him, directed not only at his enemies but at his fellow countrymen. The ones that sold them out for innovation and power. And even fear of the demons that they couldn't control. His anger was then directed at himself for the mistakes that haunted him like specters. Why had he chosen this path? What had it cost him? He slammed a fist against the table, a sharp crack breaking the silence, reverberating through the dim chamber.

This was how she found him. The atmosphere was heavy with tension as Oshun stepped into the dimly lit war room, the air thick with the scent of smoke and oil from flickering lanterns that cast dancing shadows across the stone walls. It was night, and the sounds of distant battles echoed far away. A haunting reminder of the conflict that raged beyond the fortress. The room was sparsely decorated, filled with maps and battle strategies sprawled across a large wooden table. A single candle burned brightly in the center. It illuminated the sharp features of Sesshomaru as he stood alone, consumed by his fury.

He was a vision of wrath, his silver hair cascading down his back like a waterfall of moonlight, his expression a mask of cold determination mixed with unbridled anger. His golden eyes glimmered with a fire that reflected the chaos in his heart. Each breath he took seemed to resonate with unspoken rage. His aura pulsed in the stillness of the room as if it could crack the very air around him. Modernism had gotten to him as his uniform had changed to one of more hardened leather and tailored sleeves. The demon lord was a force unto himself, fierce and untamed. Yet in this moment of solitude, he felt utterly alone, weighed down by the burdens of leadership and the responsibilities that came with it.

Oshun moved silently, her presence ethereal, almost ghost-like. She glided through the shadows, drawn to him despite the palpable tension that filled the air. She watched as he gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles white, the muscles in his jaw clenched tight. He was lost in thought, grappling with the intricacies of war. The decisions that would cost lives, both human and demon. His furor was not only directed at his enemies but also at himself, at the circumstances that had led him to this point.

Unable to bear the sight of him in such turmoil, Oshun reached out, her fingers stretching toward him like tendrils of light in the darkness. As her hand neared him, she felt the weight of his anger. A storm brewing just beneath the surface. It was a chaotic dance of tightly concealed emotions and frustration, fear, and a deep-rooted desire for control that he fought to maintain in a world spiraling out of reach. Of these foes that seemed to be set on swallowing the world whole under the guise of their god.

To her surprise, he did not flinch or draw away. Instead, as her fingertips brushed against his, a surge of energy passed between them. A jolt of connection that made her breath catch in her throat. It was as if her touch anchored him. A lifeline amid his tempests. His golden eyes flickered toward her, their intensity softening for a brief moment as he processed her presence.

Tentatively, he placed his hand atop hers. A gesture that spoke volumes in the silence of the war room. The heat radiating from his skin sent a rush of warmth through her, grounding them both in that moment. She could feel the tremors of his fury, the chaotic energy simmering just beneath the surface. But there was something else there too, a flicker of vulnerability, an acceptance of her presence in this moment of darkness.

"You came to haunt me here of all places?" He murmured. His voice was low and gravelly. It was filled with a mix of humor, frustration, and something softer. An unguarded plea for understanding. The tension in his body eased just a fraction as if her touch had dissipated the storm swirling within him.

Oshun moved to lean into his back. Her front curved around his taller broader frame. Her heart ached with empathy. "I came to assist in the only way that I supernaturally can, Sesshomaru." She replied softly. Her voice was a soothing balm against his fury. "For a moment, come rest with me. I will share my knowledge and reprieve before I must go."

In that instant, the war room, with all its maps and strategies, faded into the background. All that existed was the two of them, suspended in a moment that felt both fleeting and eternal. Oshun could sense the weight of his pain, the long-held scars of loneliness and expectation. She knew he needed to let go, even just a little. Just for the night. She would leave him with all the knowledge she could spare and let history run its course. All she could do was offer. She could not cross the line of thwarting fate less she was snatched from him brutally and destroyed because of her betrayal.

Their hands remained entwined. With a quiet determination, Sesshomaru led Oshun away from the room and down makeshift halls. Soldiers and people were in different rooms scattered everywhere. Various sounds filled the night. Everything was different here. The scents and the décor…it looked chaotic. They came to a solid door that smelt of pine and snow. Sesshomaru led her inside and soon they found themselves on ruffled furs and cushions tucked away in the corner of his private room. It was small considering who he was yet telling of the situation he was in. Yet Oshun thought it was cozy despite the circumstances. Oil lamps were lit, and their gazes found each other. This room was a small oasis of comfort amid the chaos. The fabric was richly woven, with deep hues of crimson and gold that seemed to absorb the flickering candlelight. It cast a warm glow around them. It was a stark contrast to the cold stone walls and the turmoil that lurked just beyond the fortress.

As they settled into the cushions, the tension in Sesshomaru's shoulders began to ease. He could feel the weight of his responsibilities pressing against him. However in Oshun's presence, there was a flicker of hope. A reminder that even in the darkest of times, moments of respite could be found. She was a calming force, an anchor in the cyclone of his thoughts. Despite her being some specter turned confidant and dream. She was present and real. He was a fool he surmised. Seeking hope and refuge in a spirit. But was she?

Oshun moved with a grace that seemed untouched by the chaos surrounding them. She rose to prepare tea, her movements fluid and purposeful. She moved as if the act of brewing was a ritual that could weave a thread of normalcy into their tumultuous night. The comforting aroma of herbs filled the air, mingling with the smoke of the lanterns, creating an atmosphere that felt almost sacred in its intimacy. Her touch was real and warm despite her ability to phase through objects. He could scent her as much as he could touch every curl of hair on her head.

As she poured the steaming liquid into two delicate cups, Oshun glanced back at Sesshomaru, her expression softening. He watched her, captivated by the way she effortlessly transformed the room into a real sanctuary. Her presence was calm against the harsh realities of their world. The truths she spilled echoed within him. The memory of that night when they lay side by side found him in his dreams. She spoke truths that helped him greatly win battles against the Portuguese and even the Americans. What she was…he did not care much about. Who she was now burned at the forefront. The desire to have her permanently in his presence became a fantasy that he would turn over in his mind only when he was not occupied by the safety and well-being of his people.

Returning to his side, she offered him a steaming cup. Her fingers brushed against his as she handed it over. Their hands found each other once more, fingers entwined in a gentle embrace. In that moment, everything else faded. The sounds of the war, the weight of leadership, the crushing expectations of his role as a demon lord. It was just the two of them, connected in a way that transcended the chaos outside and in time.

She told him of things he should know. Oshun gave away his enemies' history and secrets. In this space he was different. Battle-hardened and strong was still at the forefront. He didn't show much emotion, but the affection was there in his choice of words and in his mannerisms. He was changing or had changed. Maybe it was the fact that he felt safe to do so in the presence of someone who would keep his secrets. A ghost from someplace out of reach.

He confided in her his ideas and concerns. Soon scroll paper and ink mixed with hibiscus and fresh ocean water filled his space. He wrote notes as she spoke of things he should know. He listened intently. Words drifted across the paper until she had nothing to give and he had nothing to offer. Their tea remained hot, and the night tilted onwards. Oshun found herself perched against him. His back sat against a stack of pillows as she lay against him looking at their hands. One of his legs stretched outwards and the other sat bent. Her body rested between them comfortably. The skirt of her dress had come up to lay around her thighs. The soft clinging of her shells and jewelry sang as she moved again. Their fingers still intertwined as they sat in the quiet. The occasional pop of the oil lamp mixed with the quiet breaths they took in the night. A silent pact formed between them.

"Have you come close to an answer?" His question broke the silence between them. "To a cure for this one?"

Oshun tilted to the side so that she could look up at him. "I have. That's why I'm here now."

Sesshomaru considered this for a moment. The desire to inquire about the future was hot on his tongue. But the reality of his current situation wouldn't allow it. He had to focus on the now. The future would happen when it was supposed to. "It is getting late."

"It is." She said as she tugged his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. She knew she needed to press on but being here with him like this was magical. She desired nothing more than to shelter him. To fight with him using her magic. But she had a job to finish. "Oshun's voice was low and reassuring as she spoke, grounding him with her words. "This war…" Oshun sat up and turned around in his hold. His other hand rested on top of his bended knee and came up to hold her chin affectionately. "This too shall pass, Sesshomaru." She murmured. Her gaze was steady and sincere. "The storms may rage, but they will not last forever. You have faced greater challenges than this. You will rise above it again."

He could feel the truth in her words resonating deep within him, a comforting echo that whispered of resilience and strength. Her touch, warm and steady, provided a tether to reality. In her presence, he felt a flicker of hope. A belief that even the darkest nights would eventually give way to dawn. For her to speak of such things did send warning alarms, however. If he thought this situation was trying then what else was coming in his future that had brought her here? What additional harrowing cause would have her bolster him so? He narrowed her eyes and looked at her. Searching her gaze as she held his look.

"Hmm… yet you are here still trying to heal my older self." He refuted cynically. His thumb danced along her bottom lip. He rubbed the plump appendage lightly watching her gasp at his touch. He looked into the deep depths of her eyes and let her go. She shuffled to sit on her hind legs and looked at him. Their other hand was still clasped tightly.

"Yes. I am. I made a promise to you that I would. I am fulfilling my duty by understanding you to your very core. To learn what happened that brought you to me. And…" She paused for a moment thinking of a better way to say what she needed to say but was at a loss. "I have just one last thing to say before I must leave." She swallowed and looked at him intently. Taking his silence as her queue to continue, she carried on.

"There will come a time. Years from now when Rin will want to heal the world. When it is not safe for any of us to touch each other or share space. You will know of this day as it will affect the world." She took a deep breath and reached for his other hand. She held them both in hers. "You must not allow her to do so. You must tell her she needs to worry about herself."

Sesshomaru's eyes had risen. "Is this what has garnered you to act?" He shifted looking to her with narrowed eyes. "What has become of Rin?"

Oshun shook her head. "I am bound by supernatural law not to share the currents of your direct future. There are punishments of such acts. But…" She moved closer to Sesshomaru. "You must know that you will take on every challenge and be victorious. My only ask is that you find a few people that you trust to confide in and you leave room to grieve and get your bearings. That's going to help me heal you a lot in the future. Promise me you will try to do those things?"

Sesshomaru looked at her underneath the oil lamp's lighting. Her brown skin shimmered under the warm lamplight. Her eyes looked to him with hope and something else. He sat in silence as Oshun's words lingered in his mind. He understood her request for him to rest, though a part of him resisted. An instinctive refusal to be idle in the face of threats he knew all too well. But her plea to keep vigilant over Rin…to protect her from the perils of healing others…struck something deep within him. A silent resonance that unsettled and anchored him at once.

Oshun's concern was clear, born not only from knowledge but from experience. She saw the purity in Rin. The unwavering compassion that made her prone to risk. It mirrored something Sesshomaru could scarcely admit he admired yet feared. Rin had touched his life and softened the cold iron that had forged his being. And yet, her gentle spirit came with a vulnerability he had been reluctant to acknowledge. She was too helpful. Too trusting. Would that end in something grave in the future?

Sesshomaru nodded in agreement to Oshun's request. His golden eyes caught the soft light as he gave her a rare, solemn acknowledgment. His silence was as much an affirmation as his nod. A promise that was unspoken but resolute. And with that gesture, a sense of peace seemed to settle between them. A quiet understanding that bridged the space they shared in his makeshift room.

Oshun gave a gentle, approving smile. Her gaze lingered on him with an almost maternal warmth yet filled with something deeper. A yearning. A trust that he would do as he promised. She moved closer, her hand once again reaching out to touch his arm, grounding him. "Your strength is undeniable, Sesshomaru." She murmured lowly. "But it's your heart and desire to protect that holds the power to everything in the future. Please…remember this. Do not shut everything out. And let your beast feel what is needed to be felt." She pressed her forehead against his shoulder and took in a deep breath.

As they sat together, their hands intertwined, Sesshomaru felt a profound sense of connection. An understanding that transcended the barriers he had long maintained. The world outside might be engulfed in chaos, but here, in this moment… he found solace in her warmth. With her by his side, he could face whatever came next, fortified by the bond they were forging in the depths of uncertainty. Together, they embraced the fragile peace that surrounded them, a quiet acknowledgment of the strength they could find in one another amid the turmoil.

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