AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Word Count: 4,198
Glossary:
Youki—Daemon Energy
THE MOMENT KAGOME gave an unenthusiastic nod of understanding, Sesshomaru released her hands. She let go of his haori and took a step back, wanting away from him. She was quick to averted her gaze, unwilling to continue staring into his satisfied eyes, only to see the charred remains of her home. Sesshomaru had taken her to the hut she’d grown up in, the last resting place of her obaasan.
The bastard.
She was coming to realize he wanted her pain, if only to manipulate her towards his twisted agenda. She couldn’t trust him, shouldn’t rely on him, and yet, what choice did she have? She needed him to help her find Kikyo as swiftly as possible. Every second could mean life and death for her sister. Kagome had already failed the villagers and their obaasan. She wouldn’t fail Kikyo, too.
“Can we go now?”
Without a word, Sesshomaru turned away from her and began walking. Not once did he look back to see if she followed. He didn’t have too. She knew he heard her hurrying after him, a youkai’s senses far surpassing those of ningen. His stride was long and fast, forcing Kagome to half-jog to keep up with him. Before, he’d always adapted to her pace, so she knew he was doing it on purpose. Was this punishment for not giving him what he wanted?
“Slow down,” she objected, annoyed by his immature behaviour. “I can’t keep up with you!”
“You are slow, miko.”
“You are fast, youkai,” she countered on a huff that was not all attitude, breathing heavier from exertion.
“Hn.”
Though Kagome still had to work to keep up with him, Sesshomaru did slow his pace. Marginally, she inwardly groused.
His course led them through the center of her village. He appeared just as familiar with his surrounding as if he’d lived here for years. Suspicious of his motives, she guessed he wanted to drive home all she’d lost. Despite understanding his machinations, the underhanded tactic was successful. Loss dodged her steps. Sorrow. Anger.
She couldn’t understand the bandits’ senseless violence any more than she could grasp Sesshomaru’s apparent need to bring out the worst in her. His hatred of miko went far beyond animosity between natural born enemies, she was sure of it.
Tears burned her eyes. She almost hated him for his callousness; however, she did not offer further complaint, choosing instead to follow in silence. She did her best not to look around by focusing on her feet. Her bare feet—and almost stepped on the curled fingers of a severed arm.
Kagome swallowed thickly, nearly choking on the lump in her throat, when a bleak thought struck her with horrible implications.
She became rooted to the spot, staring at that severed limb, yet not really seeing it. She was barely aware of Sesshomaru halting several feet away.
“Aijin?”
That was the wrong thing to call her. Fury and bitter anguish clawed mercilessly within her breast as she lifted her gaze to his, knowing that her own was filled with accusation. He didn’t even have the decency to flinch.
“You could have saved them.” Kagome clenched her hands and took a step towards the inugami who stood coolly before her. “You had the power to prevent all of this.” She flung her arm around the charred remains. “And you did nothing. Why?” She shook her head. “You saved me. Back at the shrine. I know you could have stopped the bandits from attacking my village, but you didn’t. You let them die… Now, everyone… obaasan…” Her voice cracked.
The inugami stood still. Too still. Face stiff. “You are wrong, aijin. I wasn’t here.”
“Liar! You came for me. You pulled me from the fire. You were here.” Her aura flared, but she didn’t care. Her purification was like a white light emanating around her in roiling waves, yet Sesshomaru stood his ground even though standing so close to her was undoubtedly uncomfortable. It was a testament of his strength that he could be as near as he was without his very being burning.
His features remained smooth, impassive. Kagome didn’t know him well. His behaviour was mercurial, passionate one moment, aloof the next, but she sensed there was something different about him now. He was hiding something. She was sure of it.
“Clam yourself. Your accusations are groundless. After leaving your chamber last night, I had left your paltry village.” Then he lifted his arm. “Look upon me carefully. My need of new garments was pressing. I never would have left had I thought you would be in danger. We have a contract. I require you alive to complete it.”
Doubt assailed Kagome, her aura flickered, diminishing in her confusion. He was right. How had she not realized he was clothed? He wore the same white haori over a black nagajuban and hakama, with a gold obi that supported his two swords.
“Where…? How did you—” Kagome shook her head before lifting a palm to cup her forehead. “Forgive me.” A hesitant murmur. Then she was looking at him, conflicted. “I had no right to accuse you in such a manner. That was unseemly.”
Inwardly, she winced, contrite. Somehow, she was reminded of another accusation the night before, when Sesshomaru had visited her in her room, before her village had been attacked.
How many times was he to see the worst of her? If she wished to prove not all miko were conceited hypocrites, she was being a poor example.
LOOKING INTO HER dark brown eyes, Sesshomaru felt a twinge of conscious. The onna reeked of sincerity.
While he’d lied to her.
Oh, he hadn’t lied about leaving to procure garments, obviously. A relatively quick excursion, he’d returned to haunt the sleeping village, lost in schemes of what he would do with the miko, when he’d caught a new scent on the gentle breeze. The stench of unwashed men was only slightly less offensive than their horses. He’d gone to investigate and seen the approaching villains. Their arrival had sparked an idea that coincided beautifully with his scheming.
With a small grin, he’d watched the bandits enter the slumbering village, only for the helpless inhabitants to wake to destruction and bloodshed. The miko was correct. He could have intervened, saving the ningen while they slept, leaving them none the wiser that danger stalked them. But saving them went against his agenda. With her home destroyed, her loved ones massacred, there was only one recourse left for the onna: vengeance.
Fate had decreed for Kagome to suffer such tragedy. Who was he to intervene? Moreover, he saw nothing wrong with benefiting from fate’s cruel will.
He’d watched over her from the skies, protecting her from afar. More than once, he’d had to kill those who meant her harm. In her mad dash through the village, desperate to reach her home, she hadn’t noticed the danger chasing after her. And with his youki suppressed, she had not sensed his presence; though, he was careful to keep his distance, just in case. He was uncertain how truly gifted she was.
Sesshomaru had nearly revealed himself when she’d gone rushing into her burning home and was glad he’d held himself back. There, she’d seen her dead grandmother for herself.
He remembered thinking, Yes. Hurt, little miko. Let your grief consume you. Allow the hatred to seep within, to spread.
He’d nearly waited too long. Kagome had been seconds from death when he’d finally made his move. He was always saving her. Ningen were so weak.
Anticipation had quickened his heart as he waited for the onna to give him the word, the merest indication to slaughter the men, only to become horribly disappointed at her lack of bloodthirstiness.
Yes, he thought, finding it strangely difficult to meet Kagome’s artless eyes. He could have saved her village. Instead, he’d relished their demise for his own self-serving purposes. And for that, the onna would rightly despise him. He didn’t care what she thought of him, but having her turn against him would be counterproductive towards his wants. Already, they were two days into their contract, and he’d made no progress with her. He had one moon cycle to awaken her to the truth. Adequate time, surely.
He hadn’t felt a shred of remorse lying to her, until now. He despised these doubts. What was this onna doing to him? Never before had he ever second-guessed himself. Until her.
In that moment, Kagome looked so unbelievably innocent, impossibly pure, that his mouth opened of its own accord.
Sesshomaru stiffened.
What had he been about to do? To say? Had he truly thought to release her from their contract? Unbelievable!
What foolishness to believe for even a moment that purity existed. Innocence was a lie. Humans were born with an evil nature just as dark as any youkai, and just as a tiger, they could not change their stripes. How could he forget such a simple fact for even an instant? Had she cast a spell upon him while he’d been away obtaining clothing? He eyed her with deep suspicion. Her guileless expression angered him, made him want to hurt her. How dare she cause him such uncertainty. For hiding behind a false façade. For believing she could deceive him.
More than anyone else before her, he would relish the moment she fell. And then, he would kill her for her audacious daring.
He watched her cringe and take a hesitant step back, wary. His expression must have given away some inkling of his feelings. Good. Let her swallow her apology and choke on her lies.
Sesshomaru turned. “Come, miko.” He forced himself to walk at a controlled clip, one that allowed the onna to follow without having to run. Not because he cared for her comfort, but because they had a long way to travel, and he did not wish to tire her too soon and be forced to carry her. He feared that if he touched her now, he would kill her.
He heard her follow after him, blessedly silent. Such a reprieve did not last long. The moment they exited the village and entered the open field, she called to him, hesitant.
“Ah, excuse me, Sesshomaru?”
He didn’t pause in his stride, didn’t acknowledge her. However, his incivility did not deter the persistent onna.
“I don’t mean to intrude on your thoughts, but we’re going the wrong way. We must go north if we are to find Kikyo. The village—”
“Our destination lies elsewhere,” he interrupted, voice clipped, discouraging further conversation. Of course, she ignored his less than subtle hint.
“I don’t understand. Where else are we to begin our search if not from her last known whereabouts?”
“Did I not hear the elder miko claim that village had been destroyed?” he reminded her, impatient. “The survivors were either taken captive or run off. There is nothing for us there.”
The ensuing silence lasted no longer than a breath or two.
“Then where are we going?”
“You ask too many questions.” He wanted her to follow him in silence. Of course, she continued to be contrary towards his wishes.
“I take my sister’s safety very seriously.”
Sesshomaru heard what she didn’t say. To locate her sister, she would go as far as to disobey him. She would cease to follow him, contract or no. She was more trouble than she was worth.
“We travel west.” He spoke through gritted fangs. “We follow those who destroyed your village. We move to intercept them.”
Sesshomaru knew where the men were headed after hearing a conversation between several men, which so happened to have been discussed before they had attacked the onna’s village. A revelation he chose not to share with her, least his lies come crumbling down around him. He’d had a taste of her spiritual powers, and her reiki was far more powerful than he’d suspected. He’d have to be wary of her.
Though he did not fear a battle between them if it ever came to that, he had no doubt their contract would be void if she sought his death. He wasn’t through with this miko, not by a long shot.
As though sensing his enmity, the onna merely thanked him and ceased her yammering. Until she yelped, stubbing her toe on a stone, revealing her lack of adequate footwear.
Sesshomaru stifled a sigh, knowing he would have to procure provisions for her at some point.
Humans were such annoyingly fragile creatures.
WHEN WOULD SHE learn to hold her tongue? Kagome thought morosely.
Once again, she’d spoken without thinking. Made accusations—assumptions—when she should have first asked. Seeing her mistake, she’d been quick to apologize, but Sesshomaru hadn’t reacted to her apology. Hadn’t seemed to care—or even want one. Her remorse and regret for her mistake touched him not at all. Somehow, his indifference hurt more than his anger—and he was angry with her. She couldn’t really blame him.
Staring after him unhappily, her attention fell to his silver hair. She’d never seen hair so long, or magnificent. Falling to mid-thigh, his mane seemed otherworldly shimmering in the morning light. Like stardust trailing after a shooting stare. Mesmerized, she wasn’t watching where she was going—and smashed her big toe into a rock.
Pain shot up her foot. So much so, she reacted instinctually. Hopping on one foot, she held her bruised appendage in both hands in a ridiculous bid to ease the pain. Muttering a curse, she heard a deep sigh from up ahead. Her head shot up so fast, she nearly lost her balance. Dropping her foot—or fall, she glared at Sesshomaru. He stared back with the same detachment as before, but she knew what she’d heard—his annoyance. As though she were inconveniencing him.
Embarrassed, offended, her earlier contriteness began to evaporate, when she sighed, exasperated with herself. She had no wish to continue fighting with him, especially when she needed his help finding her sister.
“I can’t keep walking around barefoot,” she said, unnecessarily. Then she pinched her white yukata, her nose crinkled at the soot-stained fabric, its hem burnt and frayed. “And a change of clothes would be welcome.”
She could only imagine what the rest of her looked like. Suddenly self-conscious, her hand went to her face, her hair, before falling away on a resigned sigh. “And a bath.” She grimaced. “If I can smell me, I know you can.”
“You are quite pungent.”
Heat blazed across her cheeks. “Yeah, well, I’d like to see how rosy you’d smell after the night I had,” she grumbled without rancor.
Wordless, Sesshomaru turned and continued walking, prompting Kagome to follow, her foot still stinging. It wasn’t until they stopped at the god tree where she’d woken earlier and Sesshomaru located her abandoned sandals that she realized he’d sought to provide for at least one of her needs. His thoughtfulness touched her—only to chastise herself. He was being practical rather than kind.
She was always thinking the best of him. It was in her nature. However, if she was to get through an entire month with an inugami, she was going to have to start seeing him for who he truly was—and quick.
A few hours later, her stomach made its demands known. Other than placing a sympathetic hand over her abdomen, Kagome continued walking behind Sesshomaru without complaint. She didn’t know where he was going. She’d rarely ventured far from her village, and Sesshomaru wasn’t following any conventional path. However, she didn’t dare question his navigation abilities.
He’d said he would help her locate her sister, and she believed him. In reality, she had little choice.
They were walking through a field of long grass, angling gradually upwards. It was only when they reached the top of the hill that she saw a dirt path in the distance leading perpendicular from the direction they’d travelled. She was even more surprised to see a single hut far below, nestled along the outskirts of a thick forest.
Her stomach gave another particularly loud rumble. Perhaps the inhabitants would be charitable, and if not, she knew she could forage for berries in the forest. She lamented the loss of her bow. Without it, she couldn’t easily hunt for small game. She could rig an impromptu snare, but that would be time consuming, and Sesshomaru didn’t seem inclined to wait around for a hapless rabbit to fall into her hands.
Surprisingly, Sesshomaru made for the ramshackle hut. The closer they came, the more dilapidated its appearance, but what made Kagome smile was the well-tended garden along the side of the structure, and the few chickens squawking near the back. She even heard the call of a cow, as though it was aware of their approach and voiced a warning to the hut’s inhabitants. However, no one emerged from the darkened doorway, but as they neared, Kagome heard the unmistakable sound of a man shouting and a woman crying, followed by a loud thump. Then ominous silence.
Or was that…grunting?
The hair on the back of her neck lifted, and again, she wished for her bow. Had the bandits come here? Were these people under attack? Rather than ask Sesshomaru, she reacted, impulsive.
Sliding up to the doorway, she peered inside. It was a single room with small embers burning in the firepit at the center. Sunlight filtered in through the doorway and one window at the back. Plenty of light to illuminate the occupants, but it took Kagome a long moment to understand exactly what she was witnessing. When she did, she lifted a hand to cover her mouth and took a reflexive step back, only to walk into a hard obstacle. Sensing him, she knew it was Sesshomaru, yet the appalling scene kept her from acknowledging him, or moving away from his solid presence.
There were two figures on the ground, a man and a woman.
The woman was flat on her back, the folds of her yukata flung wide open, revealing her nudity. The man atop her was fully clothes, except for his hakama pooling around his knees. His hips were moving, slamming into the woman beneath him. Utterly motionless, the woman made not a sound. It was then Kagome noticed the red pool spreading ever wider around her dark head.
Blood.
For an instant, Kagome was flung into the very recent past. Horrific images flashed before her eyes, of the massacre at the Inu no Kami’s shrine, along with the bodies that had littered the streets of her own village, and the death of her obaasan. Suddenly, rage blazed, warping her grief. Kagome lunged for the despicable man, grabbing his greasy hair in fistfuls, before yanking him away with an enraged shout. The stranger mirrored her, hollering.
“Get off of her!”
The brute roared again, swinging his meaty arm. He connected with her stomach, and Kagome released him with a pained grunt, doubling over. Then he was on her, eyes crazed. Brutal hands curled around her slim neck, squeezing. She couldn’t breathe!
Awareness flickered in the man’s eyes. “A woman?” His hands loosened, shocked. Kagome took advantage, kneeing him in the groin, where he remained indecently exposed.
The man fell back with a high-pitched scream, and Kagome kicked away from him, a hand at her throat, coughing. She stared at the vile scum with open venom. “How dare you.” Her outrage wasn’t for herself but the unknown woman who still hadn’t moved. Worry shot through Kagome as she glanced over at her.
“Some nerve you have, girly, comin’ between a man and his woman. I’ll teach you some manners.”
When the man came for her, stumbling and clutching himself, a tall, black and white clad figure stepped between them. She watched in startled silence as Sesshomaru lifted her attacker into the air effortlessly with his hand around the man’s throat. Spittle dribbled down the stranger’s gaping mouth as he clawed ineffectively at Sesshomaru’s cruel grasp. Only when his face turned red did Kagome react, jarred from her shock.
Lurched to her feet, she moved to touch Sesshomaru’s back—hesitated. “Sesshomaru, stop! You’re killing him!” The man’s eyes were now bulging from their sockets.
“You beg for his life?” Sesshomaru turned his head just enough to pin her with a steely glance. “He murdered this woman, raped her corpse. He would have raped you as well.”
Murdered.
Raped.
Blunt, ugly words meant to shock and upset. To elicit outrage—and savagery.
Instead, with a sharp gasp, Kagome turned her attention back to the woman quickly. Worried. With her eyes were closed, the woman appeared as though she merely slept. Falling to her knees, careful not to touch the crimson puddle, Kagome felt for a pulse, pleading silently that Sesshomaru was wrong—and found nothing. Kagome stared down at the dead woman, wide-eyed.
Liquid spattering against wood jarred her, bringing her gaze around. The man was urinating himself. Now, he was barely struggling, arms down at his sides, foot twitching. His face had turned a bluish purple, tongue bulging from his mouth.
Death approached. Grotesque in appearance. Frightening in its finality.
Sesshomaru prompted her. “Speak, miko. Do you still wish for me to spare his life? To allow murder to go unpunished?”
Unpunished.
Kagome hesitated, sensing manipulation yet helpless to combat against it.
Her gaze returned to the woman. The blood. The open yukata. Pale thighs spread obscenely. Dishonored. Degraded. Dead.
Lifting her head, she stared at the culprit—and felt something dark unfurl within her chest. She opened her mouth—to save or condemn, but no words emerged.
“Miko?”
Shifting her gaze from the twitching man, she found the inugami staring at her, waiting. As the silence stretched unbearably, she watched as a small smile curled Sesshomaru’s lips, while pleasure deepened the amber hue of his eyes.
Horrified by the implication staring back at her, Kagome looked away, stomach roiling.
Sesshomaru was having none of her avoidance.
“Don’t look away.”
Surprised by the harshness of his tone, Kagome flinched but complied. Compelled.
What she saw caused her to forget how to breathe. Sesshomaru’s features were twisted into a mask of cruelty as he regarded her, but there was something more glinting back at her. It took her a moment to decipher it’s meaning: arousal. As all life slipped from her attacker, Kagome was held captive, unable to look away from the compulsion in Sesshomaru’s stare. Those eyes dominated her, made demands she didn’t wholly understand.
When the man finally died, Kagome did nothing to prevent it. The eerie silence was punctured when Sesshomaru dropped the corpse, the loud thump making her jump. Then the inugami was crowding her. Kneeling before her, he stroked her cheek. Praising her with just a look, a touch.
He stared at her with satisfaction. “Aijin.” A heated whisper. He looked as though he meant to kiss her. Instead, he said four, damning words. “You let him die.”
Kagome recoiled.
Sesshomaru twisted the knife deeper. “You wanted him to die.”
She shook her head in fierce denial. “You killed him. I did nothing.”
His grin was mocking. “Yes, you did nothing. Aren’t you just as to blame?”
Oh, kami! She was going to be sick. She stood and ran for the door. She barely made it outside before she began dry heaving. Her stomach didn’t seem to care that she had nothing to purge but continued to cramp mercilessly. Sesshomaru’s accusations were ugly; damnable.
When her stomach finally eased, she was left trembling, tears flooding her eyes to roll unchecked down her face.
A voice intruded upon her tortured thoughts. “There is food in the hut, or if you prefer, in the garden. You’ll find clothing within, along with whatever else you may require.” Turning, she saw Sesshomaru regarding her with dispassion.
Kagome was appalled. Her voice hoarse, she demanded, “How can you be so callous? A woman was just murdered and...and raped.”
If she thought those same, hideous words would have a similar, outraged affect on Sesshomaru, she was proven wrong.
He stared back at her in uncaring, unfeeling, silence—when he reached for her. Kagome flinched, but he was undeterred. Somewhere, he’d procured a square of white linen to wipe her chin of spittle. The gesture was tender. His words were not.
“How does it feel to allow another to die?”
Kagome jerked back as though struck, but Sesshomaru pulled her into his arms. Face pressed to his chest, she felt his hand caress the length of her spine. Shock held her immobile.
“Just think how you will feel when your enemies lay dead at your feet.”
A tear fell, unchecked, as Kagome fisted Sesshomaru’s haori in her hands and hid her face against his chest, against the ugliness of the world. And the ugliness she’d gleaned inside herself. But there was no hiding from the truth, and there was no comfort to be found in the inugami’s embrace.
She felt Sesshomaru kiss the top of her head, felt his smile, and knew, with bleak certainty, that something within her had been lost: the innocence of ignorance.