InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Crescent Moon On The Brow Of The Sky ❯ The Blossom Wind (revised) ( Chapter 10 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

New: I edited this chapter recently because, re-reading it, I found that some parts did not fit. Like the colour and shadow, for example. Aha. Some reviews have opened my eyes to that. Yeah. Embarassing. Sorry to those who liked the idea, but you'll find now that Kagome is tied to him in some other way...Muaha. I really am sorry. This has been bothering me for days. I've been smacking my head, chanting “baka, bakashii,” over and over. Bear with me, this IS a work in progress. So some bits will change to fit the original story idea. Some ideas pop into my head randomly, and the one that Sesshoumaru keeps Kagome's colour and shadow in his sword was an AWFUL one. So, this chapter should be re-read before reading others. Thanks.

Reviews:

I would like to thank all of you who have reviewed tremendously, and for support in all of the three sites I have posted this slow-updating story in. I know that I usually put personal answers to all your reviews, and I promise I will be able to next chapter, but right now I am completely whomped with creativity and also frustration, for I cannot seem to get this thing going. Aw well, I'm sure that now because it's summer I can write more. Anyhoo, I love you all very much for your generous support, and I will reply to those reviews next chapter, I'm just feeling delightfully lazy right now.

Thankyou Oh So Much,

Kermit.

Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own. So, please don't sue! The threats of former chapters still do stand... MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Vocabulary:

Onegai: Please

Ok. All set? Let's go...

Chapter 10

The Blossom Wind (Revised)

Kagome walked behind him, the youkai who had embraced her once, with head bowed down and arms hugging the Tetsusaiga close to her beating heart. She felt, deep inside of her, a kind of slithering apprehensiveness; she felt that by holding the weapon close to her she could ward them away.

She felt, almost with a deep guilt, that by holding the weapon he so desired he would come and hold her again, reaching out to the hilt of the blade. She imagined him touching her face, her lips, and covering them with his own.

These fancies dissolved in a wave of unbearable sorrow, enough to buckle her knees beneath her, enough to make her eyes raise to sky as if searching for her dead love's face. That love, who had died never loving her in return, only loving her to protect that little flicker of Kikyou that still lived without the clay shadows of death.

Spring blew across her face, bringing with it budding light and showers of pink sakura, blowing about her as though in a dance. Was she free, or did she belong to this Taiyoukai, whose silver beauty was threaded with the blushing pink of cherry blossom?

She observed him closely, watching the long silver river of his hair, the sure steps he took, ones that crushed petals underneath. She had fled from him once, and he had captured her back into his cold, emotionless care. She watched him, wishing to breach the cold distance with a warm hand. There was something in the stiffness of his shoulders, the straightness of his posture, that made him seem completely alone.

Should she run from him? Should she wait until he slept, or until he was wounded, so he could not chase her? Should she wound him herself?

She had the Tetsusaiga still gripped firmly between her shaking hands...

When she had wounded him, she could run back to Sango, to Miroku, to Shippou- it was strange how little she thought of them, only feeling concern over herself and her mourning. How did they survive, never knowing that one they loved so generously, and had died in front of their eyes, was indeed alive?

She needed to see them. She needed to tell them that she lived, that she could never begin to understand their pain, their loss, their anger and confusion at them seeing her with Sesshoumaru, their dangerous foe.

Kagome knew that she should have died as she was destined, as she was fated. She was now like Kikyou, who avoided death until it was thrust painfully upon her. She was becoming the thing, the person she had once despised in jealousy, the pitiful creature who wandered and clung to life desperately.

Yet, Kagome had never known a spring so beautiful, nor days so bright. Something had opened her eyes, widening them, and told them to remember everything they saw. When she felt the wind blow through her, it seemed to carry away all of her troubles, and stir the long shadows of the surrounding trees into dappled and sweet sunlight. When the wind blew through her, she forgot about her desire to wound Sesshoumaru. How could she think of hurting anyone? That was a thought that could lead her to a life that was empty and full of sorrow; the life of an undead clay woman.

So, for now, she would breathe in deeply the light of the sun, which resided in her chest, burning all darkness away. She had cried so hard and so long for the memory of Inu Yasha; so long that she had forgotten what it was like to lift her head towards the distant sky, smile, and just exist. It was sweet absolution.

Her inky hair swirled with the wildness of the wind. Soon, in their walking, Rin complained of hunger, and Kagome realized she was hungry as well, nearly starving. How long had it been since she had last eaten?

Ah-Un's thundering footsteps slowed as Rin leapt off, running to the side of the path and disappearing into the surrounding vegetation. Kagome decided it was high time that she follow her, so she disappeared into the leafy shadows as well, using a hand to brush a low-hanging blossom branch out of her way. Petals dotted her onyx scalp, brushing against her ears.

“Rin-kun!” She called softly into the fragrant shade, trying to gain the unseen girl's attention- she was probably not very far away. “Rin!”

Kagome found the girl digging in the underbrush, perhaps searching for soft mushrooms growing in the fragrant and ancient decay. She knelt beside the child, whose hands and nails were already covered with dirt. Rin grinned at her, holding out the white swelling head of a mushroom.

“Not as pretty as flowers,” Rin remarked, dropping some of the fungus into Kagome's hands, “but they taste better.”

Kagome nodded and rewarded the girl's generosity with a smile. Rin smiled in return, pleased as Kagome began to eat the offering.

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The dark shadow moved in the forest, flitting between the bending boughs of the trees. The daylight glinted softly over dark, rich fabric before the youkai retreated into shadows, eyes glinting red with rage.

He was coming, coming to take everything that the Taiyoukai ever knew.

He was coming, coming to take everything that the Taiyoukai ever loved.

For he was alone for once in his short life, and he could feel keenly the bite of it. The Taiyoukai would die for killing his brother, for ever thinking he was worthy to spill his blood.

He was coming, swift as a tide, for the child.

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The miko returned to him, inevitable as the returning sun, with her hunger sated and the sweet scent of her energy restored. With the wind blowing through is long hair, he turned his attention back to the path and began his graceful walk, hearing the others follow behind him. Jaken's complaints were not lost to his keen hearing, but he chose to ignore them.

“We approach a village,” he said softly and forcefully, the stink of many humans in one place reaching his senses. Soon, the forest thinned out before them, opening out to glistening, hot, wet fields of rice- and the people who cultivated them. The path stretched onwards, past their halted feet, and then to a large village, were loud sounds of mortal life could be heard.

“Sesshoumaru-sama?” Called Jaken, apprehension plain on his features. “Should we give this village of filth a wide berth?”

The Taiyoukai did not turn to face him, even when the thundering steps of Ah-Un slowed and stopped. He was looking into the eager, almost wistful face of the miko, whose eyes looked past him and to her own kind. She met his piercing gaze, blushed, and turned her brown eyes to the ground.

Rin leapt from Ah-Un and clutched the hem of the miko's rough kimono. “Kagome-san wants to see, Sesshoumaru-sama,” she said, a pleading look in her eyes. “Onegai?”

“Hai,” he said without a passing breath of feeling, turning and stepping onto the path with his graceful feet.

Kagome's feet began to ache, rubbing against a stone in her shoe, and so she climbed onto Ah-Un's back, holding Rin around the waist.

Her eyes were wide and eager, and she knew her heart was brimming with excitement. To see humans older than she, younger than she; to see their humble homes again. She knew that the tiny moments they would spend would be more than he could stand; he detested ningen, especially if they were close together, living in each other's filth.

Soon, they passed a woman, who cried out in surprise, dropping her jug of water onto the beaten path. She watched as they passed, watching the beautiful silver youkai, whose cool amber eyes stared off into the distance and never lowered. But soon, they slid to Kagome, and there they remained.

Rin's eyes flitted around her eagerly, taking in the sight hungrily, ignoring the cruel stares of the village people. How long has it been since she had last seen such light, such bustle, a human at all?

Other villagers began to gather, and whisper amongst themselves, clutching blunt objects to use as weapons if the Taiyoukai chose to attack. Kagome believed this to be unnecessary. She knew that if Sesshoumaru had wished to attack this large village, it would be in ruins by the first moment they set a foot inside.

Kagome soon realized they were looking at her and Rin as well, and murmuring softly. She shivered, seeing the firm and hostile hate in their eyes. Their faces, already slightly darkened by the spring sun, seemed to swim before her vision. Soon, she realized salty tears were building up in her eyes. Why did they stare at her and Rin with such cruelty?

A crystal tear splashed shimmering on her wrist, and she examined it closely, her heart cloaked in despair. Then, opening her eyes wide, she knew the reason.

“That woman is with a dirty youkai,” she heard one woman whisper, pulling her son behind her legs. “She is his bitch, most likely. His whore.” A thick fear and hostility was upon her face, one that made Kagome's heart beat like a thousand footsteps upon an echoing path. She buried her face in her hands, trying to block out the murmurs she could hear; the curses against her, the praying, the glares and looks of awe and reverence.

Was this Sesshoumaru's punishment? Did he know that her own kind would never accept her again for seeing her with him, and therefore allow her to feel this grief? She longed for him to stop this madness, to tell them that she was not his, that she did not love him, that she only walked with him because of the sword that had betrayed her to his hands.

Through the village they passed, like shadows, until the turbulent murmurs subsided everywhere save in her mind.

Kagome shivered, rubbing her wrist absentmindedly. My skin is so pale. It is as though I am still dead...

Rin touched her face, brushing against her hands, lifting them free so that her face soaked up the sunshine, reflecting the pain of lamentation. Rin bowed her head to her, remorse upon her features, before kissing Kagome lightly upon the cheek. “Gomen, Kagome-san! You needed to learn.”

Kagome swallowed her tears, meeting Rin's eyes, framed by her hands. Rin smiled sadly. “I needed to learn what, Rin-kun?”

Rin touched her hand, softly smiling, the other to her heart. This gesture, too old for her, cast a further innocence about her frame.

“That you love Sesshoumaru-sama, Kagome-nee-san... like Rin does.”

Those amber eyes were burning her pale flesh. She could not bear to look up, to see their intensity, to see the triumph inside them that must surely be. She had become, in a fashion, kikyou- loving the thing her kind set out to destroy. He had known all along that she could not bear to ever leave him, and would never run away.

He knew he had her heart, trapped in between his reaching claws.

And he did not care.

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“Sango, come,” cried Miroku, voice eager. Sango, cuddling Kirara to her chest, raised red eyes to the houshi, and wearily raised herself to her feet, leaving the neko mononoke with the sleepy Shippou, who raised his tired eyes only once to her frame. They had stopped at a large village, one that was filled with a prosperous people, and they had accepted their generous offering of lodgings for a blessing.

Sango had wearily declined any food, drinking her fill of water and gathering provisions. Through cold and then heat, she had persevered. She now needed to sleep, to build up her strength for the next endless day of searching. Now, standing next to her houshi, her nose filled with the scent of homely herbs and her eyes gazing upon the slightly-creased face of a plain woman who was this village's miko, she heard news that wrenched her heart.

“A terrible and beautiful demon, with his followers, came striding down the path this morning. In fear, I dropped the water I gathered. But it was not the youkai which bothered me so.”

Sango shifted, anxious, hopeful. Miroku gave her a warning look. “And what disturbed you?” He asked, very gently, gripping the Shakujou, which clattered softly against itself.

“It was the onna with him, upon his large and strange mount. You should have seen her. She was beautiful! She was as pale as the moon, as ghostly, her soft eyes filled with sorrow. She had the air of once being full of life, though had it suddenly torn away. Even though dressed in rough clothes, her beauty shone with clarity as she held a child in her arms. She was the moon itself!”

Sango and Miroku exchanged glances, which sped up their hearts in excitement. But, it could not possibly be...

“That is not all, strong taijiya, blessed houshi. Even though it was muted, she had the look and feel of a miko about her. Perhaps it was muted because she was the youkai's mate...”

Sango reached forwards and gripped the front of the miko's kimono roughly, pulling her face close to hers. “You lie,” she growled softly. From where they sat, Kirara and Shippou looked on in surprise.

The miko woman's eyes took on a steely glint, pushing her away. “I would never lie. Ever! That would dishonour me.” The woman left quickly, scuttling away in her rough sandals, sending Sango glares over her shoulder. Miroku did a quick blessing, to pay for the food that was given to them.

Sango began gathering their things, hoisting the packages of food that were given to them, lifting the Hiraikotsu upon her back.

The houshi hurried behind her, hindering her. “Sango-san, we must not jump to conclusions. We have to wait and see what happens. It could be Kikyou she saw.”

“I found Kikyou. She was dead, you remember? Killed ruthlessly by Naraku. “

Miroku seemed almost angry, recalling that frigid night when they found and buried the clay remains, praying over them for Kagome's safe return. “Yes, I do remember. But Kagome was killed by Inu Yasha, and we saw it with our very own eyes...”

“I know it was Kagome, Miroku. I know it. Her presence lingers here.”

Miroku touched her face, kissing her newly shed tears. Sango gasped with the action, but soon the moment was gone, as though it had never occurred. “Is it knowledge that makes you believe her presence is here,” Miroku said, softly, sternly. “Or is it a wish?”

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He was close. He groaned with longing inside himself, nearly tasting the blood that soon was to come to him.

He could taste the young, untainted blood of the child.

He could taste the sweet, pure blood of the miko, who was soon to be his and his alone. Then he fell back into the shadows, in the midst of hollow want.