At long last…so it begins.

(march)SPRING BREAK! FREEEEEDOMMMM!

(june)And now I'm working full time and still in school…kill meeeeee…

(july)Fear not, my lovelies, this will be seen to its conclusion! I haven't forgotten you!

Every spear and bit of armor sparkled in the sun between the two opposing armies.

"I will give you one last chance. Surrender."

The Dō woman, from the center of her own ranks, gave a bark of mocking laughter. "You have no authority to command me, pup! I will have what is rightfully mine, if I have to kill that princess again with my own hands!"

Sesshomaru looked slightly down, lips curling into a faint smirk. He had expected the answer; he had been hoping for it. "So be it."

The marching columns of men promised by the Ka clan arrived just before dawn that morning. Sesshomaru had not slept all that night, far too keyed up for the coming battle to rest. At the head of four of the five columns marched a male of the Nami clan, each one taller and broader than him. Having already sent away his mother and mate, seeing the cousins that looked so like his father pricked momentarily at his hardened heart. He vowed to himself that he would see as many of these men home when the day was done as possible. The head of the middle column was empty, the space left for him. He strode out, taking his place at the lead of his army.

"Your orders, Taishō-sama?"

Sesshomaru turned and looked over each one of the 254 men before him. Every one loyal to the rightful heir. 250 sets of clawless hands and grim saber-toothed grins. He narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Show no mercy."

He turned his back and began the march to the field which had been agreed upon as cheers and whoops sounded behind him.

It was more than a little satisfying to see the woman's panic as the Ka men failed to fall under the blows of poisoned weapons and coated claws. The Dō were strategists by nature, but Sesshomaru knew their usual tricks. The Nami men went barrelling through the ranks of the enemy, scattering and smashing down their brethren left and right, though scarcely landing a killing blow. The bulk of the daimyo's army seemed scared and uncertain; surely that would play to their advantage. Sesshomaru himself shoved through the Dō ranks, thrusting the foot soldiers aside left and right without ever drawing his sword. Only one on this field deserved the taste of his blade this day.

He soon reached a small hole in the ranks where the leader had hidden herself. She snarled and drew her own blade, which sparkled with a far different light from the rest. It, too, was coated in some sort of poison, he was sure of it.

"You think you're clever, don't you, pup?" The woman snarled. "Taking antidote before a battle?" She raised her sword high and slashed it through the air in a signal. Abruptly, a shower of arrows rained from the sky, and dozens of soldiers fell to the earth, both his and her own in equal measure. "You didn't think we would use only one kind of poison, did you?" She mocked, lowering her blade into a position to fight him.

Sesshomaru did not give the woman the chance to attack first. He lunged forward with blinding speed, at last drawing his sword from its sheath and swinging it down, only to be blocked by her own blade. He snarled as they clashed, once, twice. She was fast and skilled, centuries his senior. There was suddenly a searing pain in his thigh as she had slipped out a knife from her boot and stabbed him when he got too close. It burned and his leg suddenly felt like lead.

"Your family has caused us no end of trouble for centuries!" The woman snarled as she swung at him again. "Too long you have stood in my way!" One strike, and another, and the wound in his leg was clearly slowing him down greatly. His men were falling around him as the air filled again with arrows. "Do you know how hard it was to convince that dragon to go after your dear papa?"

Sesshomaru snarled in fury at that, swinging and managing to hit her shoulder, his blade sticking in flesh and bone. "Do not speak of him! My father was the most powerful Yōkai to be known here, and now I, Sesshomaru, will claim that right!" He freed his blade and struck her down. Head and body hit the packed earth separately.

"NOOOO!"

Slash.

Unknown to the Taishō, the daimyō's son was also among the fighters. It was his coated blade which pierced through the white-haired man's chest now, mere hair's widths from his heart. He choked, falling to his knees, faintly hearing the man calling to his troops to retreat, gathering the daimyō's body and head and leaving swiftly. He fell forward to his trembling arms, gasping desperately for air he could no longer find, as medics ran to his aid, he felt the beginnings of hands on him—

Suddenly, the pain ceased. He was on his feet again, standing in a blindingly sunlit meadow, devoid of any combatants or the scent of fear, blood and metal. He frowned uncertainly. Something called him forward, into the distance before him. As he shifted his weight to take a step forward, something tugged at his hand. Looking down, he saw something attached to his pinky. A thin red thread, tugging at him. Leading away into the distance behind. He held up his hand to examine it more closely, to marvel at it.

"Do you know where you are?" A deep, achingly familiar voice asked him. He was not alone in this beautiful, sunlit meadow. Sesshomaru turned slowly and looked up into a face he had not hoped to see again since the last time they had stood face to face, over two hundred years ago.

"This is not the place I had hoped to meet you again…my son."