InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Finding Power ❯ Chapter Four ( Chapter 4 )

Warning: language, inucest, and violence

 

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, Sesshoumaru, or anything related to either one. They are the property of Rumiko Takahashi

 

Chapter Four

~*~

 

Unhurried, even steps brought the daiyoukai to the edge of a small steam beside a rotting battlefield. Stupid mortals and their stupid wars, she thought as she noticed how the decay from the spoiling bodies had poisoned the land and waters. It would take time before the earth was able to absorb this damage and, in the meantime, the lands and waters were unusable by either mortal or mystical beings. Except, of course, creatures like the Mu-Onna. It just figured the lesser youkai would transport the hanyou to a place such as this, a place of human suffering.

 

“Have you found it yet?” she heard from a bit further upstream. “Have you found the location of their father's tomb?” The imp sounded anxious, this did not bode well. The Mu-Onna had had plenty of time to obtain the location from the hanyou. Either the illusion had failed and the Mu-Onna was unable to get the information from him, or the young man truly didn't know where it was. Either way, Sesshoumaru's chest was feeling tight as she slowly approached the location where the others were. Taloned hands clenched until she felt the sharp points of claws beginning to dig into the soft flesh of her palms. She could not fail to find the tomb now. It was so close she could nearly taste the power.

 

It was the sound of the hanyou's voice that kept the daiyoukai from completing her arrival and slaughtering everyone on the scene in a fit of frustration she would likely regret later. It was a soft sound, seeming much younger than the boisterous gruff shouts the hanyou had used earlier. It seemed…sad, somehow.

 

“The right,” the hanyou whispered so softly the youkai almost needed to strain to hear it. “Black pearl…”

 

A black pearl, Sesshoumaru mused, stopping out of eyesight but well within hearing range of the small group. Well, that would certainly explain a few things. The tight, invisible bonds that had griped the inuyoukai's chest vanished and a shiver of both relief and excitement passed through her. For the first time in two hundred years, she was getting somewhere. Anticipation tingled along her skin and she felt her palms dampen and her chest flutter as her brain registered that she'd finally gotten close to the tomb. Remaining out of eyesight, the stoic daiyoukai took several deep breaths of the cool night air, hoping to calm herself enough so that she wouldn't visibly tremble.

 

So, now that she knew what she was looking for, she only had to find where. And her father had apparently entrusted this information to the hanyou. And she had promised said hanyou as lunch to the soul-sucking creature ahead. Damn. And even worse, while she'd been celebrating her new-found information, the squawking youkai she called an assistant had fallen silent. As much as she hated the sound of the small beast's voice--and the fact that he never shut up--it was always trouble when he was quiet. Obviously, she'd missed something important.

 

A few additional footsteps brought everything into the white youkai's view. The Mu-Onna had apparently assumed she'd fulfilled her part of this bargain. She had already abandoned her human façade, which was something of a relief to Sesshoumaru. It was disconcerting to look into the face of her father's former lover, someone the youkai tried not to blame for her father's weakness and subsequent death. Some things were better left in the past.

 

But the hanyou wasn't doing well at all. In fact, all the daiyoukai could see of the young man her brother had become was a tuft of a white mane and one red-clad, claw-tipped hand. The rest had been absorbed by the Mu-Onna's form. The human girl who had accompanied the hanyou here was yanking on that bit of exposed fur as though she could drag him from the depths of the Mu-Onna's influence. After a moment, her keen, golden eyes spied the form of Jaken, laying in pained unconsciousness in the stream's foul water with the Nintoujou several lengths away. Such incompetence. Really, why did she bother?

 

And this whole scene left her with a small dilemma. The hanyou was clearly the key to finding her father's tomb, and the subsequent treasure and power it held. Somewhere in the space beneath those defective ears was the location of the tomb. Perhaps he'd whispered it while the youkai had been composing herself and she could strip the secret from either Jaken or the Mu-Onna. In fact, now that she knew she was looking for a black pearl versus a burial ground, she could probably find it herself. But could she take the chance? Perhaps he hadn't whispered it, did she really want to spend another two centuries searching for a tiny jewel? That may be more difficult that looking for a non-existent tomb. But her only other option was to rescue the hanyou from the Mu-Onna's grasp, and she really, really didn't want to do that.

 

There was, of course, a matter of honor involved. Sesshoumaru had promised the Mu-Onna the boy's soul in exchange for the illusionary youkai's services. It would be disgraceful to go back on one's word. But that didn't really bother Sesshoumaru as much as she would have liked. She was not her father. He was all about honor; she was all about results. If the Mu-Onna stood in the daiyoukai's way, then she would be destroyed--promise or no promise. But was it really right to rescue a creature who deserved to be devoured? After all, he'd gotten caught. That was a hunter's rule regarding prey. If it didn't deserve to be eaten, it wouldn't have gotten itself caught. The foolish half-man had believed the Mu-Onna's illusion and was paying for it. Was it right to condemn the world with such stupidity by rescuing him?

 

But, ultimately, the burden was taken from her as the daiyoukai watched the girl destroy the illusions which bound the hanyou to the lesser youkai's spells. And with the Nintoujou, no less, the inuyoukai thought with disgust as the girl used the two-headed staff to break the surface of the water again and again. Someday, I'm going to have to figure out what I keep that damn imp for. As the reflections on the water's surface broke into a colliding swirl of ripples, the Mu-Onna's influence over the unconscious young man vanished. Quite dramatically, the hanyou was released from the Mu-Onna's body, ending up in a disheveled heap on the battle-tainted ground. Sesshoumaru gazed for a moment at the pile of white fur and red fabric, which shifted itself as limbs unfolded. Finally righting himself, the youkai could hear the hanyou growling softly as he glared at the Mu-Onna with hate-filled eyes.

 

Sesshoumaru watched those eyes as the mortal girl rushed to the hanyou and he murmured responses to her. Those eerie eyes that captured the light of the wide moon making them glow in the night. They were wide and so full of expression it was almost as if another world could lay within…another world…

 

A place you can see, but cannot be seen. A place The Guardian can never see.

 

“Shit!!” the hanyou half-growled and half-shouted. “It was all a fucking lie!”

 

“Inuyasha,” the youkai stated as she approached the crouching two from behind, “I have discovered where to find Father's tomb.” Before the young man had an opportunity to turn and attack, Sesshoumaru appeared at his side. Taloned fingers wrapped around the exposed neck as the daiyoukai lifted the hanyou to his feet and up some more until he dangled from her deadly grip. A soft cry came from the mortal girl beside the siblings but she was easily ignored.

 

The clawed tip of her thumb dug into the hanyou's neck, directly over the vein which could bleed the body dry in a matter of minutes if ruptured. It was no surprise that the young man knew to keep perfectly still in order to prevent the claw from puncturing flesh. In fact, Sesshoumaru barely detected breath passing through the firm, smooth body in her grip. Finally close to the hanyou for the first time, the white youkai smirked as he glared at her with those golden eyes. This close she could see that they were darker than hers, flecked with tiny streaks of chestnut that spread from his slitted pupil and across the iris. And they were narrowed in a way that seemed almost unnatural on such a smooth and guileless face.

 

“To think,” she commented, gazing deeply into those eyes and smirking at the anger smoldering within, “that Father could find such an obscure place to hide it that even this Sesshoumaru would be unable to find it.” Beneath her fingers, she felt a growl form from the inuhanyou's throat, transmitting a satisfying vibration up her arm. “He certainly picked an odd place,” she commented mildly, “and an odd guardian.”

 

The low rumble in the younger man's throat grew to a full snarl as he spit out, “You fucking bastard, Sesshoumaru.”

 

“The right, black pearl,” she continued, ignoring the hanyou's outburst as she narrowed her gaze on one dark, golden eye--the right one, to be specific. “So he sealed his tomb there. Well, that certainly kept it safe.”

 

A tanned hand tipped with short but vicious claws grasped the wrist she was using to hold the hanyou. Digging those claws into the pale flesh of her wrist, the young man tried to wrench the pale hand from his neck. “Bastard,” he coughed again, “are you still babbling about that tomb shit? `Cause I told you I don't know anything.” The voice was sneering, filled with anger and betrayal. Strangely, the eyes Sesshoumaru was studying so closely mirrored the emotions. Why would the hanyou be feeling betrayed? He shouldn't have any reason to expect kindness from her. She had been apathetic to him at best. And she could certainly be much worse.

 

“I suppose that's true,” she answered him. “Perhaps you know nothing. It appears it was entrusted to you without your knowledge.” Ignoring the grip the young male had on her right wrist, Sesshoumaru raised her left hand. “In that case, perhaps you would like to accompany your elder brother,” she started as she poised those deadly digits before his face, “and we shall visit Father's tomb together.” As the last words escaped her mouth, the white youkai plunged the first two fingers of her hand into the small pupil of the hanyou's right eye. Spreading her fingers slightly and ignoring the pained cries from her brother, she stretched the opening and pushed deeper until a smooth surface brushed along the sensitive pad of one finger. Twisting and pushing until she had buried her fingers up to the second knuckle, she maneuvered the tiny object between her claws and pulled. A sickening pop sounded as her fingers pulled free of the small opening, clutching the dark, gore-covered pearl between them.

 

The human girl screamed out protestations as Sesshoumaru dropped the hanyou to the ground. The youkai trembled in barely contained excitement as she palmed the precious jewel, wanting to never let it go. “No matter how hard I searched for a burial ground, I couldn't find one,” she explained, somewhat to the hanyou lying at her feet but mostly to herself. “I only had one hint, a riddle. A place you can see, but cannot be seen. A place The Guardian can never see.” The hanyou growled at her, clutching his bleeding eye but Sesshoumaru barely noticed as she opened her hand to behold the object she'd searched for since her father's death. “And all this time, it was hidden in your right eye.”

 

“Bastard,” the hanyou snarled as he pushed himself to his feet. Sesshoumaru glanced over to him, somewhat amazed that the creature was still willing to stand up to her even after she'd removed a significant portion of his eye. Unwittingly, she had to admire his perseverance--if not his intelligence--as she gazed at his determined face, the evidence of his last bout congealing around his injured eye socket. “All for that fucking rock you made a fake of my mother!?”

 

A reminder of the Mu-Onna caused Sesshoumaru to glance over in the lesser youkai's direction. She still knelt on the ground, using all four limbs to keep from collapsing completely. It appeared the trauma of having her meal torn from her had sapped her strength. Yet, even weakened, the illusion youkai seemed affronted by the hanyou's assertion that she was a fake. The creature certainly had possession issues.

 

And while the white youkai seemed momentarily distracted, the hanyou leapt forward with claws outstretched and ready to attack. Only to learn that Sesshoumaru was never that distracted.

 

“I'll kill you for that,” the young man growled as he landed, sweeping out with his claws and expecting to tear through his elder sibling's torso. Only she was no longer there. Using speed the pathetic hanyou could only dream off, Sesshoumaru leapt into the air to hover over her enraged brother. For a moment, she simply watched as anger melted into confusion at her disappearance before she spoke and drew his attention.

 

“I'm in a hurry,” she stated, letting a smile grace her features, “so if you're going to get in my way, I'll have to kill you.” Sesshoumaru raised her own claws, the sound of her knuckles cracking and the deceptively sweet scent of her poison filling the air. Uncertainty and fear dilated the uninjured pupil of his left eye as the hanyou fell back and waited for the youkai's strike. Sesshoumaru could see his hope of avoiding or deflecting the attack had faded and resignation seemed to still the young man's limbs. It made her almost regret what she was going to do next. Pushing off the intangible air currents, she passed the boy, swinging her claws to cleave him in two. The heavy scent of blood and bodily fluids filled the air as her talons caught on thick layers of fabric before sinking into soft flesh and sinew.

 

Landing softly a few lengths away, Sesshoumaru turned to gaze at the evidence of her slaughter. Through the red mist however, the inuyoukai saw the shredded remains of the Mu-Onna instead of her hanyou brother. The young man was still laying where the youkai had last seen him, draped in ragged strands of delicate silk and a spray of blood. His expressive eyes were wide in shock and disbelief. Beside him sat that human girl who Sesshoumaru was beginning to find quite an annoying creature. The girl's face was skewed in a mask of confusion and anger. Tears of sorrow were forming in large, grey eyes. This simpering girl represented everything the daiyoukai resented in the females of any species. Pathetic weakness. To the side, was the decapitated skull of the treacherous youkai who'd dare come between the inuyoukai and her prey.

 

“My…boy…” the dying creature wheezed as the last strands of strength and youki slipped from the woman's form. So the false woman felt the need to thwart this Sesshoumaru's will, did she? the daiyoukai mussed as she approached the deformed head. She thought to protect that which I had marked for death, rage grew with each step toward the minor youkai's remains, she wished to steal back that which had escaped her. Sesshoumaru didn't halt when she reached the Mu-Onna's side. All it took was one final step and the daiyoukai felt the skull crush with a wet crack before her booted foot sunk into the mush of the creature's brain.

 

“Worthless fool,” the white youkai gave in eulogy ignoring the mortal girl's screams of outrage before pulling her foot from the bloody remains. Not only had the Mu-Onna failed in her duty to wrest the location of the tomb from the boy--after all, it was Sesshoumaru who had discerned the location and retrieved the pearl still nestled in palm of her hand--but the Mu-Onna had also lost control of her fragile illusions and lost her prey. Each of those was an offense punishable by death. And that was before the bitch had interfered in Sesshoumaru's attack. Yes, destroying the Mu-Onna had been a therapeutic exercise. Yet, the cool, smooth weight in her palm reminded her that this mission had been a success, not a failure. The death of the hanyou was not a requirement. In fact, at this point it was a distraction.

 

As if on cue, the grass rustled to Sesshoumaru's left and the shrill tone of her lackey's voice pierced her ears. “Sesshoumaru-sama,” the imp screeched and the youkai wished she could pin her ears to her head as she noticed her brother was doing, “I have retrieved the Nintoujou.” After losing the two-headed staff, the undeserved pride in the small youkai's voice ground on the little patience the white daiyoukai was maintaining.

 

“The next time you lose it,” she stated calmly, a casual tone that caused the imp to clutch the staff with whitened knuckles, “I will kill you.” Sesshoumaru reached down and plucked the staff from the creature's grubby hands, amused as she watched fear paralyze that beaky, leathery face. She assumed the small beast was wondering if that counted as losing the staff and she could smell the hormones his pores were releasing as panic flooded his system. It was always so amusing to watch a creature resign itself to a bloody fate. Although, in this case she had something better to do than terrify her underling.

 

“I've been waiting for this for so long,” she murmured, bringing the black pearl up before her eyes. The moonlight glistened off its reflective exterior, initiating a swirl of color just below the surface. It was beautiful in its dark simplicity, and yet no one could ever guess just how much importance this tiny jewel contained within. With one last, almost-loving glance, Sesshoumaru tossed the black orb into the air only to watch it float gently to the rocky ground at her feet.

 

Her sensitive ears picked up the tiny tink as the jewel struck the rocky earth. Her pulse throbbed in her chest until it was all she could hear as she raised the Nintoujou high over her head and brought it down to strike the pearl. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the creaky, old man bound to the staff opened his mouth. The sound of his harsh cackling reverberated through the suddenly silent valley.

 

“The old man is laughing,” Jaken gasped and, for once, Sesshoumaru couldn't have cared less that he was restating what was clearly in front of her. “The tomb is opening.”

 

The pearl suddenly pulsed, then exploded in a flash of black light. Ancient magic and a trace of her father's familiar youki swirled around her, creating a wind so intense her hair lifted and tangled in waves around her, joining with the snapping flaps of her large silken sleeves. Her heart slowed as she was enveloped in the growing trails of her father's youki. The familiar touch left her with a feeling of peace, contentment, and safety that she hadn't felt since the great daiyoukai's death. She closed her eyes and let the empowered energy run over her, through her, leaving her skin tingling until she was no longer aware of the world around her. She could see no light from beneath her closed lids, could hear no sound beyond the roar of swirling magic and wind.

 

There was a slight tugging as though her soul was being wrenched and then everything was still.

 

“Se-Sesshoumaru-sama?” Jaken's voice was unsteady and the imp was clutching at the white silk of her hakama. The white inuyoukai opened her eyes to see that they had been transported to another world. More specifically, the world between worlds. The sparkling white bones of countless youkai littered the ground around her. So much so, in fact, that they were the ground around her. Above her head was the swirling black vortex that they had apparently been transported through. The sky was dotted with the skeletons of ancient birds, winging their way through this boney landscape. It was no wonder that the small imp was frightened. He served a powerful daiyoukai because he had neither the strength nor the skill to defend himself.

 

“Come, Jaken,” she stated as her eyes were drawn to the massive corpse lording over this world of the dead. She released a wisp of youki into the air, forming it and giving it strength. A rush of icy wind blew her hair and Jaken realized her intentions just in time to grab her pelt as she lifted into the air on a cushion of fashioned fog.

 

The imp buried himself in her copious fur as the inuyoukai approached the immense figure, her eyes attached to the fanged skull. She heard the tiny beak chattering as she rose passed the gaping maw ringed with teeth larger than she. Exactly what the small imp thought this lifeless corpse was going to do to him, she wasn't sure but it was rather amusing that her father could still inspire such fear. She levitated to a height directly between the large sockets that had once contained eyes more familiar to her than her own. Bringing herself within touching distance, she rested a pale hand on the smooth bone.

 

“Father,” she whispered, a small prayer of worship to the man who'd raised her. A youkai feared by every being in the west and most of the rest of Nihon, yet who she loved more than her very self. She closed her eyes and bowed her head, letting the silky lengths of her bangs brush across her cheeks. With her golden eyes tucked safely behind her lids, she could pretend her trembling fingers were tucked into soft fur which covered warm flesh and blood instead of stroking cool, lifeless bone.

 

A shifting against the silk of her hakama forced her to open her eyes and end the ridiculous fantasy. She pulled her hand from the skull before her, a simple remnant of the great youkai who had been her father. Jaken peeked his beaked nose from behind her leg, trying to steal a glance at the one who his master had just declared as `Father'.

 

“Is this your great father?” the small youkai asked, hoping to learn something of his master's past. For a moment, Sesshoumaru remained silent.

 

“No,” she answered, finally. “Father died centuries ago, this is the remains of his corpse. There is nothing of him here. Let's go, a treasure waits.”

 

Before the small youkai could see the lie to her words, that she did sense something of her father in these dusty remains, Sesshoumaru directed them into the eye socket of the skull. It was a strange feeling, entering the inner depths of a youkai, even a dead one. Rather like being eaten, an experience she was quite certain she'd never have.

 

But in a matter of moments, the feeling was gone. Eclipsed by a sense of longing and satisfaction and awe. In the deepest depths of her father's remains, a cavernous space lit by an otherworldly light, was a golden alter. The very object she'd been searching for since the great daiyoukai's untimely death, the symbol of everything that had been respected and feared about the great inuyoukai, the key to inheriting her great father's power, stood unassumingly in the center of the pedestal. The sword was shabby, the hilt worn and tattered, the blade dull and chipped. It seemed out of place, displayed on such an elaborate alter. As if someone had taken whatever truly belonged there and left this as a joke. But Sesshoumaru knew better.

 

“I have found it,” she whispered, as if saying so would make it true instead of a dream. “I have managed to find you at last, Tessaiga. I have searched long and hard for you,” she continued, her mouth growing dry as her palms dampened and her fingertips twitched. “And here you are, the great blade hidden away in Father's remains.” Two careful steps brought her to the podium's side and the great sword was less than an arm length away. “A sword possessing the power to destroy a hundred youkai in a single swing. The great fang, Tessaiga.”

 

“It is carved from your great father's fang, is it not, Master?” the small imp piped, but Sesshoumaru barely heard him over her own pounding pulse. “Taking this is like inheriting your great father's unlimited power…” the imp echoed into words the thoughts which had been carving paths in her mind for two hundred years.

 

Yes, she answered in her mind the question he'd spoken aloud as she reached out her hand to finally grasp her father's treasured sword. Long, pale fingers wrapped around the soft hilt, tracing the fabric worn by her father's palm. For a heartbeat, it seemed as though she were, once again, holding her father's hand and she felt his power tease the flesh of her palm. But only for a heartbeat. In the next, she felt unimaginable pain as the sword lashed out at her.

 

White arcs of energy danced up her arm, licking her flesh and leaving vicious marks that went much deeper than the skin. Blue flames grew from the shredded wrappings around the hilt to surround her hand. She heard the screeching of the small imp and briefly wondered what, exactly, he expected to accomplish. Quickly, she released the blade, watching as tiny blue flames continued to flicker between the webbing of her fingers. As they died down and the burns on her hand began to heal, she looked back at the innocent-looking blade. A feeling of despair and, strangely, betrayal began to take root beneath her breasts.

 

“Wh-what?!” Jaken stuttered unbelievably behind her. “I-it failed to come out?!” And Sesshoumaru was much too surprised to glare at him for pointing out the disaster facing her.

 

“How cautious of him,” she stated, her voice sounding hollow even to her own ears. “He has placed a barrier on it…a spiritual barrier.” I can't even touch it. She watched as the flames engulfing her hand flickered out and the burns instantly healed. Perhaps, she should try again. Maybe the barrier would only affect her once. Maybe she only had to hold it longer. Maybe Father was testing her, testing her desire. Maybe…maybe, Father was denying her.

 

She nearly stretched her hand back to the sword again, ready to risk additional burns--ready to risk purification--just to prove that her great father would not deny her his power, her inheritance. The one thing he had raised her for. The one thing that she had groomed herself to have, that she'd worked for and sacrificed for. As she moved her hand toward the sword she realized this wasn't even about the damn sword--after all he'd just had it made shortly before his death--it was about his acceptance of her. But damnit, he was dead; she didn't need his acceptance but she would have this sword.

 

“Sesshoumaru!”

 

The white inuyoukai snapped her head around. She'd been so caught up in her reflections of the damn sword she hadn't even noticed the hanyou's arrival. Hadn't she left them on the other side of the portal?

 

The young man was leaping, rather gracefully, down the ribs of their father's tomb. That mortal girl was riding his back, rather like he was a pack horse. How ironic, a mortal woman desecrating Father's tomb, Sesshoumaru thought as she watched the white-maned inuhanyou carefully situate the girl on a sturdy rib with an outcropping of overgrowth for her to clutch.

 

“I ain't done with you yet!” the hanyou shouted once the girl was safe. Safe, indeed, Sesshoumaru scoffed softly at the concept. No one except she was safe within this land of the dead. Perhaps it was the small smile that spurred the hanyou to attack, or maybe that was his intention all along. “Sankon Tessou!!” the young man cried out, the young, clear voice echoing and amplifying in the sparse, cavernous space. He lunged at her, claws outstretched.

 

Moving faster than the hanyou could see, Sesshoumaru dodged the attack. The young man landed right where she had been standing, claws digging a huge furrow in the bone-scattered floor.

 

“Why, hello, Inuyasha,” she greeted politely from her perch atop the golden alter. She peered down at him as he crouched in the trench dug by his own attack. “Did you come to dig yourself a grave?” she asked, amusement evident in her voice. Perhaps he could be a decent distraction from the life-shattering disappointment she'd just endured. “Or, perhaps,” she began again as he glared up at her with barely repressed murder in his eyes, “you've come to draw Father's fang. The sword, Tessaiga.”

 

“Tessaiga?” the hanyou repeated glancing at the sword still standing beneath her feet and Sesshoumaru knew she was feeling slightly better when she had to repress the urge to roll her eyes. Oh gods, he's not repeating me, is he?

 

Unexpectedly, another voice piped up. “Draw it out, Inuyasha-sama,” it squeaked.

 

“Whaddya talkin' about, Myouga?” the hanyou sighed, giving a name to the slightly familiar voice.

 

“Sesshoumaru-sama,” the flea-youkai called out to her from his perch within the collar of the inuhanyou's haori, “you have tried already, have you not? And you were not able pull it out.”

 

All amusement faded from the white inuyoukai's face as the implication of the flea's words burrowed beneath her skin like tiny parasites. And if anyone should know, it would be this flea. This tiny, insignificant creature had been her father's closest, most loyal retainer. As far as she knew, he was the guardian of her father's tomb. He'd done a pretty good job of avoiding her all these years because she had certainly tried to hunt him down.

 

“Are you suggesting,” she began, her voice reaching a dark tone that radiated through the empty space and was all the more awful for its quiet volume, “that Inuyasha could pull it out?” She narrowed her gaze to the tiny creature alone, leveling him with a glare that had cowed beasts infinitely larger and more powerful than this tiny insect.

 

The old flea stumbled his way to the junction of the hanyou's shoulder, hiding within the thick locks of ivory hair. Borrowing courage--or idiocy--from his new master, the flea spoke out against Sesshoumaru again. “Absolutely,” the creature cried out, his voice trembling in fear. “The tomb was entrusted to him, was it not? That is proof enough that the sword is supposed to be his. Quickly, Inuyasha-sama,” the flea said, turning his attention to the inuhanyou who'd been watching the exchange silently, “draw it out!”

 

“Keh!” the young man responded--quite intelligently, in Sesshoumaru's opinion. “Why the hell would I want a busted up, worn out, old blade like that?” The youth's eyes were blazing with anger and other assorted and confused emotions. And he hadn't dropped from his aggressive stance. “Like I said, we ain't done yet, Sesshoumaru.”

 

The young hanyou lunged at her again, his attack somewhat slow and wide but quite passionate nonetheless. At the last moment, the inuyoukai uncurled herself from where she was seated atop the pedestal and leapt to a new spot. Dropping lightly on a massive rib on the other side of the chest cavity, Sesshoumaru pushed aside the flea's disturbing beliefs. Leaving the sword to the hanyou would be like leaving him the Western Lands. Father wouldn't do that to her. He'd spent her entire life training her and preparing her to control those territories. He wouldn't have left them in the untried hands of a babe. The mere suggestion was ridiculous.

 

“You damn bastard,” the hanyou snapped, “stop fucking dodging me.”

 

“Oh,” she responded as he landed in a heap atop the dais, turning those amusingly expressive eyes toward her. “Were you aiming at me?”

 

Clearly, the impulsive young man took offense to her words. That face hid nothing, so different from her own, as a string of obscenities escaped his lips. Such a brash young man her little brother had become. The hanyou adjusted his footing, giving Sesshoumaru the forewarning she needed, and leapt after her again. And, again, she danced away. Hair, silk, and fur swirled around her as Inuyasha struck the rib where she had been standing, only to bounce off the hard surface and crash into the unforgiving crypt floor.

 

Landing lightly on the ground several arm lengths from the fallen form, Sesshoumaru gazed down at the hanyou. He lay on his back, red-clad limbs sprawled carelessly from his trunk and his chest rising and falling deeply as he tried to regulate his breathing. A perfect picture of lack of control. Every ounce of energy was channeled into every attack. So much emotion and passion and the young man could be quite powerful, perhaps even a proper opponent under the right circumstances, but with no control he was hopeless. Just a mound of tanned flesh, white fur, and red-fabric panting on the ground.

 

“I see your fighting style hasn't changed since our last meeting,” she quipped, “although at that time, you were a mere babe.” The inuhanyou rolled over into a crouch, a movement of white and red, and golden eyes gazed up at her again. Some of the anger seemed to have bled away and something else had taken root. Was he surprised that she remembered? He should know that this Sesshoumaru forgets nothing, she thought as he studied her.

 

For a moment, the two siblings gazed into each other. Each trying to read the other, trying to ferret out secrets. But the moment was broken when the small, wheezy voice of a flea broke the silence.

 

“You cannot beat Sesshoumaru with your claws, Inuyasha-sama,” Myouga shouted into the hanyou's white-furred ear. “Get the sword!”

 

“Would you shuddup?!” the inuhanyou growled back and Sesshoumaru thought she heard a trace of impatience and annoyance in the young man's voice. And the anger now glowing in those dark, golden eyes seemed directed at the flea for interrupting.

 

“Inuyasha,” came a cry from overhead, “just pull out the sword, will ya?”

 

It was the mortal girl; she was interfering. Not a particularly bright idea. Sesshoumaru narrowed her eyes on the girl who mistakenly believed that she had some right to interject in this little conversation between siblings.

 

“Kagome!” the hanyou shouted in warning from beneath the girl.

 

“But Sesshoumaru couldn't do it,” she continued, ignoring the warning and turning enraged dove-grey eyes on the still daiyoukai. “If you can pull it out after he couldn't, can you imagine how stupid he'd look? How stupid he'd feel? It might not be a physical hit, but it'd be a blow to his pride.” The mortal girl glared hard at Sesshoumaru, stormy eyes darkening in rage. “Sesshoumaru'll be disgraced,” she finished, practically hissing the words.

 

Well, that clinched it. She was going to kill this girl. Not that the inuyoukai hadn't planned on killing both the mortal and the hanyou as soon as they dared to show up, but now it was going to be messy, and bloody, and painful. The nerve of this presumptuous, impetuous, insignificant, mortal wretch, to think that she had the right to judge what would and would not be grievous to this Sesshoumaru.

 

But, as if he could see the murderous designs playing out in his elder sibling's mind, Inuyasha spoke again. “I get it now,” he growled, catching Sesshoumaru's eye and holding it. Perhaps to keep her from filleting his little girlfriend. “That would really piss you off, wouldn't it, brother?!” he sneered, his face holding a seriousness the inuyoukai wouldn't have suspected the face could hold. Gone was the gruffness, the posturing, the sarcastic amusement.

 

The white youkai's face reflected the same gravity. For the first time since the hanyou had arrived in this grisly tomb, Sesshoumaru did not feel the need to play with the young man. “You couldn't,” she asserted, hoping that her voice did not betray her very real fear that he could. Because it was an irrational fear. Father wouldn't do that to her.

 

But the smirk that crossed the hanyou's face, a fang-bearing expression that Sesshoumaru doubted had any resemblance to a smile, told her that he'd noticed the fear.

 

“Keh,” he scoffed at her as he slowly approached the alter. “You show up outta nowhere, you make a fake of my mom, you kill her, you fuck with me, you threaten my friends,” the hanyou reached out, his hand hovering over the hilt. “Tell me, brother, if I pull this out, will it make you cry?”

 

That tanned hand slowly wrapped itself around the frayed hilt and Sesshoumaru watched, waited, for blue flames and arcs of energy. She held her breath but kept her face neutral, waiting, hoping, for some sign that the sword was rejecting him. But nothing happened.

 

Hiding in a corner, Jaken gasped out a denial and Sesshoumaru was hard-pressed not to agree. The sword was accepting him, the sword that should have been her inheritance, the symbol of her domination of the west, was accepting a lowly hanyou after it had rejected her. She was angry. She wanted to destroy the hanyou, the sword, and that damn girl who'd suggested this whole thing.

 

But the hanyou was having troubles of his own. Sesshoumaru watched as the cords of the young man's throat flexed and trembled in exertion as he attempted to pull the sword from the dais. Perhaps, it hadn't accepted him after all.

 

After several moments, during which the burning rage that had flooded the daiyoukai's veins subsided, the hanyou gave up. He wiggled it a little, likely to see if it had budged at all, but the sword refused to come out. Relief soothed the fiery paths of rage within the inuyoukai as the hanyou stood, with a dumbstruck look on his young face. Releasing his grip on the coveted sword, he stood very still while everyone waited.

 

“Hey,” he said softly as Myouga crawled up on his shoulder. Sesshoumaru was somewhat amused to see the flea turn to run at the harmless word. But before the tiny creature could leap away he was caught in sharp claws. “I couldn't pull the damn thing out, could I?” the hanyou hissed at the ancient youkai.

 

But as amusing as it was to see the hanyou so disappointed and see the interfering little insect be squashed repeatedly, Sesshoumaru still had a sword to claim. Everyone seemed to have forgotten that this was her mission, her father, her sword.

 

“This fun little game is over,” she stated, interrupting the inuhanyou's bug smashing session. Before the hanyou could even turn his attention to her, she appeared directly before him with one hand tangled in the rough, red fabric of his haori. Dried bones scattered around her as she pushed off the ground, driving the startled young man back and into the rib cage of their father's tomb. His feet dangled a hand length or so from the ground as she held him up to her superior height. “It would appear that Tessaiga was never meant for the likes of you, hanyou,” she commented, so close that her breath ghosted over the skin of his cheek. His golden eyes, one still damaged from earlier, clouded over with some unknown reaction as she brought up her free talons. It must be fear.

 

“Let me introduce you to my poisoned claws,” she breathed as a soft, green mist formed around her displayed talons. She felt the hanyou tense but, before he had a chance to struggle, she thrust her claws into the bone beside his mane. The air filled with sweet fumes as caustic acid leaked from the poison ducts beneath each claw. The bone liquefied beneath her touch, as did a portion of the fire-rat cloth where a bit of the viscous, green fluid had dripped.

 

She loosened her prey and he leapt away from the melting rib. “You can't escape,” the white youkai whispered in his ear as she appeared behind him, shocking him with her otherworldly speed. Once again, she fisted his haori, this time forcing him down on his back. She landed atop him, straddling his hips.

 

“I'm coming, Sesshoumaru-sama,” she heard from behind and she seriously considered destroying the tiny youkai before she finished this game with her little brother. Why, in the seven levels of hell, would she need assistance from a cowardly, powerless, sniveling imp? Especially when she'd already taken down her prey. The white youkai almost breathed a sigh of relief when the mortal girl trampled the small creature.

 

But something had changed while she'd been mildly distracted. Her sensitive nose picked up a scent that she rarely found on those who she'd marked for death. The daiyoukai narrowed her eyes into tiny golden chips as she glared at the hanyou beneath her. His eyes were clouded again, but this time his aroma most certainly wasn't of fear. She dropped her face to his, brushing her nose along the soft skin of his cheek. Through his pores, she could smell a different combination of hormones. Drawing back slightly, she wasn't amused to find his face flushed and turned away, unable to meet her eyes.

 

Well, she hadn't expected the young man to be aroused.

 

If it weren't for the thick bone armor about her waist, she was certain she'd feel hardened proof pressing against her.

 

“Die,” she hissed bringing up her poisoned claws. A denial rang out from behind her, presumably from the mortal girl, but what stopped her was the metallic scrapping that followed.

 

Sesshoumaru snapped her head back, thick silver curtains whipping around her. Her grip loosened as she stared in disbelief, the hanyou beneath her turning with his newfound freedom but not attempting to leave. Two sets of shocked golden eyes focused on the mortal girl. The one holding a tattered, battered sword.

 

“Sorry,” she whimpered, the sound barely carrying even in this cavern that echoed the slightest noise, “it just slipped out.”

 

It was Jaken who broke the heavy silence. “Im-impossible,” the imp stuttered, voicing the thought of every creature present. The girl continued to stand, bare legs trembling and her knuckles white under the choking grip she held on the hilt. “If that mongrel couldn't get it, and Sesshoumaru-sama couldn't get it--,” the imp continued to stutter as Sesshoumaru rolled up and off her opponent, her golden gaze appraising the young mortal woman. “--then how could that impetuous mortal pull the sword?”

 

Exactly what I would like to know, Sesshoumaru decided.

 

“Keep your eyes off her,” the hanyou growled as he tried to strike out at the daiyoukai. Sesshoumaru avoided the attack, leaving the hanyou crouching in the new gouge he'd dug as she appeared before the sword-wielding girl.

 

“You,” the white inuyoukai addressed the girl, stepping forward and crowding her against the cavernous walls of her father's corpse. “What kind of creature are you?” she asked. The girl looked, and even smelled, mortal. She was dressed oddly, but human fashions were often changing. Thick waves of black hair hung softly over a slim frame. Grey eyes that were nearly as expressive as the inuhanyou's gazed at her with barely restrained terror. She was an average, if somewhat pretty, mortal girl. “Why were you able to pull Tessaiga?” the daiyoukai asked, not hopeful she would receive an acceptable answer.

 

She wasn't wrong. “St-stay away from me, you,” the girl stammered, stepping back and bringing up the dull blade. “You come any closer and I'll…I'll slice you.”

 

Sesshoumaru cocked an eyebrow. This girl was going to slice her with a busted-up blade that she clearly wasn't able to use. Or even hold correctly. Surely, the human race would have to die out within a few more generations with examples like this.

 

“Leave her alone, Sesshoumaru,” came a stressed voice from behind. The youkai in question turned to acknowledge the speaker as he continued, “she doesn't have anything to do with this.”

 

“Inuyasha!” the girl pleaded, although whether she was begging for his assistance or his silence, the inuyoukai was unsure.

 

“I believe you're mistaken, little brother,” Sesshoumaru informed him. “Do not forget, you brought her here. Now, she is very much involved.” The daiyoukai brought up her favorite weapon and relished in the deadly, sweet scent as her poison fumes saturated the air. Turning her attention back to the shaking yet strangely defiant girl before her, the white inuyoukai held out her hand. “My Dokkasou will take care of you.”

 

A slight tension in a few muscles and a tug on her youki and the poison sacks constricted then released. Sesshoumaru watched dispassionately as a deadly fog engulfed the impetuous mortal; the wall behind her and even the ground beneath her dissolving and liquefying. Soon, only a green cloud could be seen over the area. Sesshoumaru dropped her hand and where a human had once stood was merely a puddle of melted bone and an indestructible sword.

 

“Kagome,” the hanyou gasped, reaching into the puddle of acid and goo only to pull back as the poison began to dissolve his arm as well. I wonder if he's afraid he'll forget her name, the daiyoukai wondered, it would be a logical explanation as to why he keeps screaming it out. Not that it matters any longer…

 

“Darn,” the white youkai commented, boredness tainting her voice, “it appears she was an ordinary mortal after all.” A low growling nearby brought her gaze back to the crouching hanyou.

 

“Sesshoumaru--” her brother ground out, rising to his feet and readying an attack.

 

The white inuyoukai raised her poisonous claws for what should be the last time. “Yes, hanyou, I believe it's finally your turn.” But before she was could launch her attack, her brother landed his fist in the center of her armored chest. The force of the blow knocked the daiyoukai back several lengths. She brought her arms up to press against the assaulted spot. It didn't hurt, probably wouldn't have even without the armor protection, but it was rare that anyone managed a hit on her.

 

Somewhere nearby, Sesshoumaru could hear Jaken squawking his disbelief. As the bone plating came apart in her hands, the white inuyoukai found herself slightly amazed as well. “Are you angry, Inuyasha,” she asked, genuinely curious, “she was just a mortal. There are many, many more.”

 

The hanyou crouched, his position aggressive. He pierced her with eyes narrowed and sharp in anger and hate. “Fucking bastard,” he growled. The volume was soft, as was the tone, but so deep that it nearly ran shivers up the seasoned youkai's spine. “I'm gonna gut you next.”

 

His promised attack never came however. The hanyou glanced back at the still oozy puddle where his mortal bitch had perished. Sesshoumaru followed his gaze and both watched in amazement as the puddle began to move. If asked, even Sesshoumaru would have admitted she was surprised to see the mortal girl pulling herself out of the pool of acid that would have dissolved every structure in the universe. And she was shaking it out of her hair as if it were mud.

 

“Oh, man,” she gasped as she stumbled up on solid ground, Tessaiga clutched to her chest, “I thought I was dead.”

 

Didn't we all, Sesshoumaru agreed, and Inuyasha nodded dumbly as well.

 

“You,” she shouted, turning to Sesshoumaru and pointing the treasured sword at her, “you tried to kill me, didn't you.”

 

Sesshoumaru blinked. Was the girl seriously asking, because the daiyoukai thought her intentions had been quite clear.

 

“You jerk,” she snapped, those grey eyes darkening like storm clouds, “I'm gonna make you regret that.” Then, much to Sesshoumaru's dismay, the girl turned to the hanyou by her side. The girl's face instantly brightened, every trace of indignation vanishing to reveal a sweet, energetic smile. It occurred to the inuyoukai that the mortal might have some psychological disorder. “Here,” the suddenly perky girl chirped, placing the sword in the hanyou's hands.

 

“Uh, okay,” he replied, clearly wondering about her state of mind as well.

 

“This sword looks pretty cool,” she continued, “go get him, okay?”

 

“Uh,” the hanyou began again, still looking at the girl with a perplexed expression marring his face, “why are you alive?”

 

“She was protected by the sword's shield,” Sesshoumaru answered the hanyou's question. Her eyes riveted on the blade currently nestled in the hanyou's hands. He held it so casually; the blade that rejected her very touch.

 

“Hesitate no longer, Inuyasha-sama,” the tiny flea-youkai bounced around on the inuhanyou's shoulder. “Use Sesshoumaru-sama as a target to test out Tessaiga's blade.”

 

The sight of her father's precious sword in the untrained hands of the hanyou finally pushed Sesshoumaru over the fluctuating limit of her patience. She chuckled softly, deeply. “Brave words, small flea.” She released the massive reserves of youki she stored within this delicate frame. Bone fragments lifted from the ground, swirling away from her to strike the walls of the tomb. The temperature dropped until the youkai saw the mortal girl shiver in her tiny garments. “This Sesshoumaru is curious to see,” the white inuyoukai began as her hair lifted to join the growing storm and the flapping silk of her kimono began to dissolve, “whether an abomination such as you can master the awesome power of Tessaiga.” With no more words to say, Sesshoumaru finally released herself to the transformation.

 

It was…uncomfortable, bordering on painful, as her bones bent and stretched, some even merging together as others split to form additional bones as needed. Joints rearranged, bending and twisting her until she was forced down on all fours. Her delicate, striped wrists grew a thick layer of soft fur before her eyes and, instead of seeing a hand, she looked down on a massive paw. But as painful as it was to have her body rearrange itself, it was wonderfully exhilarating as well. In a humanoid form, her senses outmatched that of any mortal dog or other youkai, but they were still stunted by the physical limitations of the form. The additional input was spectacular.

 

As she rose above her opponents, the daiyoukai marveled at herself. This is who she was. This massive, powerful creature. Not some weak, simpering fool like mortal women, not even a powerful but flighty fool like her mother. Sesshoumaru was a monstrous creature, more powerful than any other youkai in these lands. More terrifying than any tale used to frighten children. More than strong enough to destroy a simple hanyou brat and his odd mortal bitch. More than strong enough to bend the sword, Tessaiga, to her will. She stretched her tail out behind her, revering in the feel of a limb she didn't often get to use, before letting it flip and swish on its own. It was all the youkai could do not to howl her excitement into the echoing cavity of this tomb.

 

Below the towering daiyoukai, the mortal girl was stammering, clearly surprised by the youkai's change. “It ain't nothing,” Inuyasha stated but an underlying tension belied his words. “Sesshoumaru's just showin' his true form's all.” Leaping into the air, the hanyou shouted, “I think it's time to test out my blade.”

 

Had she retained the ability in this new form, Sesshoumaru would have laughed as the inuhanyou brought the dull, rusted sword down in the center of her skull. The blade bounced off, throwing the hanyou to the side of the tomb. Sesshoumaru gave the young man no chance to wonder at this as she lunged for him, massive jaws opened to devour her attacker. Her opponent barely managed to dodge her muzzle as she snapped it closed, grinding away at her father's rib. Looking winded and flustered, he barely avoided a poisoned claw as she swung out at him. Soon, he wouldn't be able to evade her and she would take great joy in tearing him into shreds. There was a price to be paid for trying to take what belongs to Sesshoumaru.

 

A sharp sting on her ankle indicated that the hanyou had finally managed a hit. The daiyoukai snorted her amusement through her muzzle, noticing a frustration from the inuhanyou as he also discerned the hopeless plight he was in. That annoying girl, however, seemed oblivious. Sesshoumaru raised the paw to her mouth, licking at the slightly bruised flesh while she allowed the hanyou to inform the mortal of exactly how doomed their situation was. She waited patiently for the two to say their goodbyes; after all, she had a heart…sometimes. In a sickeningly sweet gesture, she watched the hanyou pledge his protection to the girl. Pathetic mortal women, she scoffed as the hanyou finally stood before her, determination and resignation warring across his features.

 

Yet, as she watched the hanyou approach, the tattered Tessaiga swung casually over his shoulder, Sesshoumaru noticed a difference. A difference in the hanyou as his face became set in a stony expression of determination. A difference in the sword as it seemed to pulse within the hanyou's grasp. A difference in the very air as a foreign youki began to leak into the edges of her senses. She watched, wary, as youki began to swirl and concentrate around the sword, youki too similar to her father's.

 

This must be finished now, she decided, the winds making her uneasy of dragging out this little show of strength. Settling back on her haunches, she used every bit of energy to lunge at the young man. He brought up the battered blade as a last ditch effort to defend himself, but it would be of no use. She would crush him beneath her massive weight before dissolving his body with her acid. He leapt up to meet her blow and when Sesshoumaru saw the transformed sword, it was too late to abort her attack.

 

The sword pushed between the pads of her paw, between the second and third claw. She howled as it decimated her ankle, cleaving through skin, muscle, cartilage, and bone as if it were slicing fat. The transformed Tessaiga snapped through her radius, shattered her elbow, and was halfway through her humerus before the hanyou broke off his attack. Severing half her arm as he did so.

 

The proud daiyoukai fell to the ground as pain greater than any she'd ever felt before seared through her system. Nearby, the hanyou landed nimbly, the transformed Tessaiga stretched out before him. The sword had accepted him as its master. That realization hurt nearly as much as her shattered limb. Reluctantly she turned her eyes to the mauled foreleg. The cut had been clean. It had run straight up the center of her leg, before cutting away to the left. The worst part was, the right portion was still there, still intact.

 

And she couldn't leave it.

 

If she tried to stand, it would snap. It would be best to just finish the break, hopefully making it clean. The youkai closed her eyes. It would be better if she didn't see, didn't think about what she was going to do. Opening her jaws, she placed them around the raw flesh. Before she could hesitate, she locked her jaw on the remaining limb, twisting her head when the worthless flesh didn't immediately separate. The sick taste of her own blood filled her mouth as the remainder of her left foreleg came off in her teeth.

 

Pushing the now lifeless flesh from her mouth with her tongue, the daiyoukai struggled to her feet. Blood poured from her severed limb. The terrible tingling and itching amplifying the pain as her youki immediate began trying to halt the bleeding. But right now, there was nothing she could do for it. She turned toward the hanyou. The stupid boy who had just taken everything from her.

 

He didn't even glance her way. He was studying his new sword. His new sword that should have been hers, the sword that had just taken her arm and, perhaps, her ability to keep rule over her lands. And he wasn't even looking at her.

 

She growled, a low rumble that she knew was a bad idea. She wasn't honorable enough to give the abomination fair warning. But she couldn't stop herself. She hurt and her whole life had just unraveled. So, she growled. The boy looked up just in time to see her attack as she lunged for him.

 

“This is it, Sesshoumaru,” he shouted as he brought the blade up and then down across her chest. The blow held enough force to throw her across the chest cavity and through the wall. Warmth engulfed her, the pain retreating slightly as the healing sword, Tensaiga, engulfed her. Through her own howls, she heard the cries of Jaken, her loyal retainer and sent a barely controlled wisp of youki to snag him, dragging him into the protective sphere Tensaiga had established.

 

She wanted to go back, to finish this fight, or die trying. But the sword wouldn't let her and she knew it. And she would have died. As much as her pride couldn't stand it, the healing sword would only take her away on the verge of death. With one final howl of frustration and pain, she succumbed to the sword's will and let it take her away.

 

Annoying A/N: Okay, this chapter came out infinitely longer than I expected. I had a couple complaints/requests to move the story along faster. Since I spent a bit of time and storyplotting deciding exactly how and when Sesshoumaru and Inuyasha hook up, I'm sorry but I'm not gonna change it to make the story move faster. If that makes my story boring, then I'm sorry but I'm gonna try it my way first. The one concession I can make is to make my chapters longer. Of course, combined with school being back in session, that means my updates will be much, much more irregular.

 

Special Thanx to:

 

Shuori

Demitria Miriam

Miss War-Chan

Sparkangel

Malimillions

Manda

DrakenD4

Lady Yueh

Tenamanda1988

Nikkie23534

 

You guys really make all the writing and dreadful proof-reading worth the effort. Thanx,

 

~Silence~