InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Lord of the West ❯ One Man's Obession ( Chapter 4 )

Author's Note: I forgot to mention in my manga update before the previous chapter: at the most recent point in Takahashi's manga scripts, Miroku and Sango have agreed to be married once Naraku is defeated. This is not to say, of course, that Miroku has mended his lecherous ways . . . . Also, the word `kehai' means the aura radiated by someone or something possessing supernatural or spiritual power.

 

{+} {+} {+} LORD OF THE WEST {+} {+} {+}

 

{+} {+} Chapter 4: One Man's Obsession {+} {+}

 

The Seer flinched as Sesshoumaru's sword cleared its sheath and watched as he turned the blade into a position of readiness, but still she made no effort to rise from the divan. The white demon lifted his gaze from the weapon for a moment to study her reaction. Seeing that she was not about to flee him, he approached her calmly. As he passed beneath the beam of light around the bowl and its pedestal, his sword shown with borrowed radiance, and for the briefest of instants the Seer thought she saw it pulse. Watching the gleam pass across the lambent blade, she understood that this Youkai lord was not one to bluff.

 

As Sesshoumaru skirted the pedestal and the scrying bowl, the fear clutching at the Seer's heart with icy fingers sharpened into panic. She pushed herself backward off the divan and onto the floor. The impact on the cold stone was jarring; she was unable to suppress a whimper of pain. The divan was overturned by her sudden lurch, and had landed across the backs of her calves. But this didn't stop her from dragging herself free and crawling rapidly away from the advancing enemy. The crunch of bone in her knees was nearly unbearable, but her instinct for self-preservation was stronger. And now she had the overturned divan between her and the Youkai lord, which she hoped would buy her a few seconds' time.

 

Then she glanced up, and he stood directly in front of her, the sword angled downward toward her in his one hand. The white folds of his clothes hung motionless from his tall frame, as if he had not needed to move at all to intercept her. Yet he had moved---with lightning speed, faster than her eye could detect. There would be no running from this fey creature.

 

Instead of trying to creep away from the Youkai lord on her hands and knees, the Seer made a sudden lunge for his feet, stretching out her hands to grasp them. If she could but touch him . . .

 

But Sesshoumaru knew now to expect this particular defense, and sidestepped so swiftly that she landed on her stomach, hands clutching at empty air. Before she could recover herself to try again, he planted a foot in the small of her back. This was done with surprisingly little brute force, but it did serve to effectively immobilize her by pinning her to the stone floor.

 

Though she could not see it above her, the Seer heard the whoosh of air as the sword sliced downward through it.

 

“No!” she screamed.

 

But Sesshoumaru's strike never faltered, and then the blade passed through her flesh.

 

{+} {+} {+}

 

The Present Era

 

It was the late afternoon by the time Kagome finally arrived home. She echoed her family's greetings somewhat hollowly, because there was indeed a hollow in the pit of her stomach. What had she done? What had she done? Or was it something she had yet to do in the past? This was all so confusing, and frightening as well, because Kagome had no idea what it was, and so had no idea as to how to avoid it.

 

Whatever it was, it would inevitably bring about Inuyasha's death.

 

Wearily, she climbed the stairs, scarcely aware of when she accidentally stepped on Buyo's tail and sent the cat yowling down the stairs. She walked slowly down the narrow hall and then turned into her room.

 

Inuyasha was sprawled across her bed, apparently slumbering deeply because Buyo's racket hadn't awoken him. The warm afternoon sunlight slanted in from the window, falling across the hanyou's face and the one arm he had tucked beneath his head. Kagome sat down on the edge of the mattress, not wishing to disturb him. It wasn't at all reassuring to her to see him sleeping like this. When he was awake, Inuyasha seemed practically invincible---loud and full of life, and inhumanly strong. But like this . . . he seemed more human . . . more fragile. For the briefest of instants, Kagome's heart skipped a beat as she imagined him lying thus, dead beside his brother as the mountain fell . . . and then the vision was mercifully gone. She reached over and removed a stray lock of hair that had fallen over Inuyasha's nose, wondering what she should tell him when he woke up.

 

She had scarcely one second to ponder this, because in a flash his eyes snapped open. Instantly, he half-leaped, half-rolled off the bed, grabbing Kagome around the waist and taking her with him. Both of them thudded to the wood floor below.

 

“Get down!” Inuyasha shouted, peering over the top of the bed as if he saw something fierce and slavering coming at them.

 

Kagome, who'd had the wind temporarily knocked out of her when they landed, now found her voice and let out a scream.

 

“KYAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

 

She tried to kick at him, but her feet were tangled up in the bedspread. The scream, however, was more effective, and seemed to snap Inuyasha out of whatever dream it was he'd just woken up from. He blinked repeatedly for a few seconds, and then glanced down at Kagome, whom he was straddling. Her arms were pinioned beneath his knees. She was glaring up at him, her expression the prelude to explosion.

 

“Fuck! I thought there was . . .” Inuyasha started, and then decided that it would be better to start with an apology than it would an explanation. “Sorry. Are you okay?”

 

“I will be when you get off me!” Kagome snapped, trying to pull her arms out from under him.

 

“Okay,” Inuyasha told her, “if you promise not to slap me when I do.”

 

They glared at each other for a moment---Kagome with righteous indignation and Inuyasha with mistrust. Then he climbed off of her and she sat up, straightening her blouse and rearranging her hair.

 

“I dreamed there was a huge eye staring at me,” Inuyasha explained, scooting backward to stay well out of slap range. “It was bigger than I was, and then the head started to move.”

 

Kagome stared at him, but he didn't elaborate.

 

“And . . . that's it,” he finished, folding his arms in front of him. His long white hair was still bristling from remembering the dream.

 

Kagome's anger vanished, because she suddenly realized that this wasn't a nightmare---it was a premonition. Now that he mentioned it, she recalled a similar dream she'd had . . .

 

“What did the eye look like?” Kagome asked, frowning.

 

She was trying to remember what it was that she'd seen before the eye, but for some reason the images eluded her. There was a brief flash of white---something white. It could've been anything. It could've been Inuyasha's hair for all she knew . . .

 

“Hmm.” Inuyasha laid a finger on the side of his chin, looking pensive---which in his case meant owl-eyed and button-nosed. “Well, its eyes were pitch black, but they shone, Kagome, as if the color black could glow. It saw me. I could feel it. That was why I flew at you like that. I could still see the thing when I woke up.” He paused, looking somewhat disgusted with himself for admitting fear. “I can still see it.”

 

Kagome shuddered. That was what she had seen, all right: a black eye, luminous as obsidian in sunlight, slowly beginning to open. But Inuyasha had seen it open all the way . . . now Kagome was no longer certain that it was Sesshoumaru who would kill Inuyasha. If both brothers were to perish . . . it was possible both would die at the hands of a greater enemy . . .

 

Inuyasha crossed his legs, hiding his hands in his sleeves.

 

“So,” he said, “how was Reiyama?”

 

And Kagome spontaneously burst into very noisy tears.

 

For a moment Inuyasha recoiled, caught completely off-guard. Then he approached her cautiously, reaching his arms toward her somewhat hesitantly as if she might bite him. Comforting crying women was not one of his strong points.

 

“Hey!” he told her nervously, still reaching for her. “Don't be like that! C'mon---it can't be that---”

 

Inuyasha never had time to finish whatever words of reassurance he was trying to convey, because at that moment Grandpa Higurashi's frying pan connected with the back of the hanyou's head.

 

“ACK!” Inuyasha squawked in surprise, falling over backward and clutching at his skull.

 

“How DARE you assault my granddaughter!” Grandpa bellowed. “And in MY OWN HOUSE, too!”

 

“HEY! WHAT THE FUCK?!” Inuyasha bellowed back, sitting up and rubbing at a lump on his head. “I didn't MAKE her cry!”

 

“Grandpa, stop it!” Kagome pleaded, wiping hastily at her tears. “He didn't do anything to me!”

 

Grandpa Higurashi took another swing at Inuyasha, but this time the hanyou caught the frying pan between his claws. They grappled for a bit, and then Inuyasha's demon strength allowed him to wrench it free of the old man's grasp. The hanyou tossed it backward over his shoulder, where it sailed through the air before connecting with Kagome's lamp and shattering it all over her desk.

 

Kagome covered her face with her hands and shouted: “Stop it, you two! Gramps, I'm okay, so will you stop whacking Inuyasha? Inuyasha! Will you please stop breaking things?”

 

Grandpa retrieved the frying pan and shuffled off down the hall, looking sheepish. Inuyasha rubbed at his head, looking grouchy.

 

After a moment, Kagome's tears were reduced to sporadic hiccups, and Inuyasha felt that it was safe to resume their prior conversation.

 

“So tell me what happened,” he said simply.

 

And she did. She told him everything that had happened to her during the field trip to Reiyama's capitol building---everything that President Tatesei Sano had said. She couldn't look directly at Inuyasha during the part about the “legend of the White Brothers”---she didn't want to unnerve him even further by starting to cry again.

 

When Kagome had finished, Inuyasha was silent for a moment.

 

Then he shrugged and said, “Heh. So that's it.”

 

Kagome's hiccups vanished completely, and her hands balled into fists at her sides.

 

“What do you mean, `That's it'? It means that you and your brother are going to die!”

 

Inuyasha's expression settled into a very familiar closed stubbornness.

 

“Like I give a flying fuck if Sesshoumaru eats it,” he muttered. “Er . . .” He had just taken notice of Kagome's revived prelude-to-explosion face. “Look, it's no big deal. Now that I know what to watch for, I'll be ready when it comes. If it's Sesshoumaru, I'll whack him first. If it's some big-ass eyeball, I'll use Tetsusaiga to hack up whatever the hell the eye's attached to.” He paused, considering. “If all else fails we can just have Miroku suck it up. I have to admit, he does come in handy sometimes . . .”

 

Kagome sighed. It seemed there was just no convincing Inuyasha that “near-immortal half-demon” did not mean “immortal.”

 

“We should go back,” she told Inuyasha, regretting these words even as she spoke them. “Whatever I did---whatever happened to throw off history, it needs to be fixed. We need to explain all this to Miroku and Sango, at any rate. And maybe Kaede can help us, too.” Regardless of what she was suggesting, Kagome's heart balked at having Inuyasha return to the time where he ran the risk of dying.

 

“Yeah,” Inuyasha responded, climbing to his feet. “Let's go, then. Get your stuff together.” He paused, blanching a little. “But first . . . before we go, I've got to . . .”

 

And he ran out of the room. Kagome clapped a hand to her forehead during the puking noises that followed.

 

`What are we getting ourselves into?' she wondered, shaking her head.

 

{+} {+} {+}

 

The Feudal Era

 

Now that the blade no longer pulsed in his hand, Sesshoumaru sheathed it and stepped back to observe the effects upon the one he had struck. These always interested him, because the sword's true magic still remained something of a mystery to him. Usually Tenseiga chose its target and Sesshoumaru wielded it, curious to see what reasoning lay behind the sword's choice. It had been so with Rin, and also with Jakken. This was only the second time the white demon had actually chosen to wield it---the first had been to give life to the head of Goshinki, Naraku's telepathic minion, that the sword Tokijin might be forged from its fang.

 

The Seer lay prone on the floor for a minute, apparently frozen with terror. Then, slowly, she rolled over and sat up. She ran tentative, exploratory hands down her legs, stopping at the knees, and then gasped.

 

“I'm not harmed!” she exclaimed. Sesshoumaru couldn't see her face through the veil, but it was obvious from her tone that she had been expecting him to kill her. “The sword has . . . healed me?”

 

It seemed to be so, because she then proceeded to draw her knees beneath her and rose shakily to her feet. Sesshoumaru said nothing, watching her calmly. `So,' he thought, `I have willingly called upon the sword to heal a mortal, and it has obeyed.' He wasn't overtly surprised by this, but he was slightly embittered---the sword had only disobeyed him once, when his father had been slain by the Tatesei.

 

The Seer shifted her weight from one leg to the other, testing the extent of the healing spell. Then she stepped on the edge of her long cloak, tripped, and almost fell right into Sesshoumaru. He stepped back hastily, and she righted herself, making no move to touch him as she had before.

 

“You healed me?” she asked him somewhat hesitantly. Her eyes were downcast now, as if she were afraid to look at him.

 

Sesshoumaru, who despised timidity, turned his back on her and started walking.

 

“The sword chose to heal you,” he corrected her sharply. “Now follow me.”

 

He didn't hear footsteps behind him, so he came to a halt, glancing backward over his shoulder, so that one yellow eye glared balefully at her. She stood motionless, the blue veil fluttering in and out gently as she breathed.

 

“What the sword did I can just as easily undo,” he told her pointedly. “Come now. Or stay, if you like. I can obtain my answers from the Tatesei officials using far bloodier methods, if that is necessary . . .”

 

“I will go,” the Seer murmured. “In truth, it doesn't matter; one way or the other.”

 

Sesshoumaru frowned. The Seer bent to lift the scrying bowl from its pedestal, her veil falling forward and concealing her human face in an opaque curtain of blue. Then she straightened again, and he could see with the veil resting once again near her face that her lower lip trembled beneath it. Wordlessly, he turned and stalked out of the chamber. Striding briskly down the dark halls of the Temple, he knew that she followed by the salt-scent of her tears.

 

When at last the two of them had reached the Temple's outer stairs---rebuilt since Sesshoumaru's massacre of the Wise two years ago---they were met not only by the nervous guards (who gave Sesshoumaru a very wide berth) but the king and his highest servants as well. The guards' armor creaked as they shifted uneasily. They parted to allow their king to walk through their midst, but flanked him closely as he approached the white demon and his Seer.

 

“Well met, Sesshoumaru, Lord of the West,” Asano said softly, bowing low and respectfully.

 

The boy king's gold discs tinkled gently against each other in the dark nest of his hair. He straightened just as slowly, and there was a moment's silence as his black-eyed gaze shifted from the Youkai lord to the Seer woman, who stood behind Sesshoumaru's tall form as if she were hiding.

 

Asano's heart had always been noble, and now the passing years had made him shrewd and perceptive.

 

“You're taking her from us,” he murmured, inclining his head slightly in the Seer's direction as well.

 

“Yes,” Sesshoumaru agreed. “I have use for her.”

 

“As do we,” one of the nobles behind Asano interrupted, but the boy king cut him short by holding up a restraining hand.

 

“The Seer belongs to the Tatesei,” he explained calmly. “Her gift is needed.”

 

Sesshoumaru was not one to be fooled by outward appearances; Asano was afraid---afraid because he did not understand why the Lord of the West had returned after two years of silence. The Youkai lord could see that it was time to remind them all who their true ruler was.

 

“The Tatesei belong to me,” he told them icily, “and so does `her gift'.”

 

Asano took a deep breath, squaring slender shoulders beneath white silk robes embroidered with flying cranes. The boy-king's face was young and unlined, but his eyes were old.

 

“The people are afraid, Lord Sesshoumaru,” Asano ventured to explain, spreading his hands in a gesture of appeasement. “They do not see the new world that I see. They do not see that your presence---and the spiritual ties that bind us to you---shield them from invading demons and men. They see only that the Wise are gone, and that we have only our warriors to protect us, and a young, untried king. They fear and hate you because they believe you have reduced us to weakness. They see the change you brought as a curse, when in truth you forced the City of the Dead to live again, as men---however . . . bloody the lesson you taught them.” He sighed, noting Sesshoumaru's impassive stare. “I don't expect you to pity them,” he added, “but the presence of a Seer among them, whose predictions may guide them in a time when the future is uncertain . . . This is one comfort I would not deny them.”

 

Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed. A sudden, icy wind ruffled the white fur slung over his shoulder, but his body remained immovable as stone.

 

“I am lord here,” he told them. “I will take what I desire. And what I desire is an answer to the riddles of the past.” His yellow eyes flashed a warning.

 

Low, angry muttering broke out among the assembled warriors, many of whom were nearly as young as their king because Sesshoumaru had killed all the older ones. Calmly, the white demon surveyed the crowd of mortals, reading the fear and the helpless anger in their faces. His gaze came to rest upon one familiar face: high, proud cheekbones and earnest almond-shaped eyes: the young man named Irusei. The warrior exuded only anger.

 

`This young fool,' Sesshoumaru thought, `is one to watch.'

 

Asano studied the white demon thoughtfully for a moment, weighing the possible consequences of questioning him further. However, after a moment he apparently thought better of it, and bowed low in acquiescence.

 

“I see you cannot be swayed,” the boy king observed. “Then I can only ask that you will protect the Seer and treat her well, for her sake and ours.”

 

To this Sesshoumaru did not reply. Instead he turned away from them and finished his descent down the Temple stair. Behind him, after a moment's hesitation, the Seer followed, lifting the hem of her long blue robes with one hand while clutching the scrying bowl tightly in the other. They had almost reached the bottom when the warrior Irusei broke away from his comrades to pursue them.

 

“I beg of you!” he cried. “Don't take her! She is my sister! She is the only family I have!”

 

The Seer's pace slackened, but then Sesshoumaru's hand gripped her shoulder, propelling her roughly on ahead of him. Behind him, Sesshoumaru heard the clang of a sword hastily drawn from its sheath. He turned quickly at the sound to behold the young warrior standing on the stair, naked blade in hand.

 

“Stay your hand, Ningen,” Sesshoumaru said calmly. “Or attempt to strike me, if you wish. Give me a reason.”

 

Slowly, mechanically, Irusei lowered his sword and replaced it at his hip.

 

“Return to the barracks, Irusei,” Asano ordered sharply.

 

“Come,” the white demon told the Seer, and she obeyed.

 

Together they strode out of the city and into the open fields, unhindered by any who crossed their path.

 

{+} {+} {+}

 

A quiet snow was falling as the Youkai lord and his Seer ascended the slope leading homeward. Sesshoumaru did not deign to speak with her, but he did breathe more deeply than usual every once in a while to catch her scent and to reassure himself that she hadn't fallen behind. He was not in the mood to be fishing human girls out of snowdrifts right now. The Seer trudged wearily after him, breathing hard because she wasn't used to traveling long distances on foot in two feet of snow.

 

Together they slipped silently through the forest like two ghosts, through the narrow, craggy pass, and into the valley that comprised Sesshoumaru's estate. Sesshoumaru paused a moment before starting down into it, as he always did, enjoying this first sight of the palace. It was surrounded by vast gardens, lovingly tended by the little wood spirits that his father had given sanctuary in the valley. Through these gardens ran a maze of paths and streams and bridges, though now because night had fallen none of these were visible. All the paths led to the valley's center like the spokes of a wheel, the hub of which was the palace, rising from the dark, snow-capped trees in all its ancient splendor. It was fashioned from gray mountain stone and dark pine, left to their natural colors because his father had always appreciated natural beauty. The roof of the building's main hall was high and vaulted, and its corners curved upward into peaks. Its size was mainly for show---the Inu Youkai did not transform inside it. Even Sesshoumaru could count on the fingers of his one hand the number of times he had seen his father transform---such displays of power were frowned upon if used unnecessarily.

 

From each window of the palace there shown tiny pinpoints of light: beacon fires, lit by the household imps to welcome their lord home. Sesshoumaru drank in the sight of them, remembering a happier time when those lights had been lit for his family members, who were already inside enjoying the warmth---unlike their young, impetuous son. Even in his early youth Sesshoumaru had been full of wanderlust. Yet he had always returned home and paused here, to look upon his family's halls and let the sight fill his heart with peace.

 

He did so now out of habit, imagining for the briefest of instants that he would not find those fire-lit rooms barren and empty.

 

He savored this moment of spiritual quiet, knowing full well that a noisy human child and an even noisier family servant awaited his return and would doubtlessly begin to irritate him the instant he set foot across the threshold. He glanced over at the Seer, who was ruining his moment of peace by gasping like a fish out of water from the exertion of the long climb into the valley. He supposed that after a time even she---silent, pathetic creature that she was---would become an irritation.

 

Perhaps he would kill her if he decided the nuisance she caused outweighed her usefulness.

 

For now, it looked to be a long journey down through the gardens when she was already exhausted, and Sesshoumaru didn't feel like waiting. Without warning, he wrapped his arm around her waist and slung her over his shoulder. She uttered a very undignified shriek of surprise, clutching at the bowl to keep herself from dropping it. With the briefest of glances over his shoulder, Sesshoumaru ordered: “Do not touch me.”

 

Then he was off like an arrow from a bow, every stride carrying him for yards at a time. Some of his bounding leaps carried them about the level of the treetops. The Seer obeyed his warning and did not grasp at his skin, but when at last they arrived at the palace the Youkai lord had to pry one of her fists open to free his hair. He did so roughly and briskly, so that he only touched the skin of her hand for the briefest of moments. He saw no visions.

 

Mutely she staggered after him into the main hall, staring curiously at everything around her. As Sesshoumaru had predicted, they were met immediately by a very flabbergasted Jakken, who after a moment of gaping at the human woman standing behind his master launched into a very whiny string of protests.

 

“Oh, no milord! Why have you brought a human? What am I to do with another one? This bodes ill for us, milord! We haven't the room!” This last, of course, was preposterous, because the palace was far larger the living space needed for four people. Of course, Sesshoumaru preferred there to be a large number of vacant chambers between his own and those belonging to the palace's two noisier tenants, so there was always that to consider . . .

 

“This, Jakken, is the Seer of Reiyama,” the white demon explained blandly.

 

The Seer did not seem the least bit concerned with Sesshoumaru's reasons for bringing her, and was now studying the paintings on the vaulted ceiling, which were outlined in intricate gold filigree. The household imps were beginning to creep into sight, staring curiously at the Seer with their bulbous eyes.

 

“Take her,” Sesshoumaru ordered them, and then turned his back on her to confer with Jakken.

 

Several imps approached her, and after two of them tugged on her skirts with their child-like fingers the Seer understood that they wanted her to follow them from the hall.

 

“Truly, Milord, what are you thinking? Why---” Jakken was saying.

 

Sesshoumaru stopped him mid-sentence with a glare.

 

“You overstep your bounds, Jakken,” the white demon warned.

 

Prudently, the imp shut his mouth and hurried after his master, who had begun to walk down the hall in the opposite direction.

 

“The kirin ordained me Lord of the West,” Sesshoumaru said quietly. His footsteps rang hollowly across the stone floor. “Yet it also told me something which after these two years I have not forgotten . . .”

 

{+} {+} {+}

 

It was still gently snowing many miles to the north when Kagome poked her head out of the top of the Bone-Eaters' Well. She paused a moment before hauling herself up out of it, raising her eyes to the level of the rim in order to scan the area for unwanted interlopers. There were no footprints that she could see, and the glade was quiet. She was just about to duck back down again and shout an “All clear!” to Inuyasha when a pair of strong arms locked under hers and pulled up onto the Well's rim.

 

“KYAH!” she screeched, and then nearly fell over off the rim as the hands hastily detached themselves from her body.

 

“I'm sorry!” Miroku apologized, backing away from her in a hurry. “I didn't mean to---say, where is Inuyasha?”

 

Kagome turned to see the monk glancing about him somewhat nervously. He seemed more worried about Inuyasha pounding him for touching Kagome than he did about the fright he'd caused her. She sighed, supposing that was the best anyone could hope for.

 

“He's coming,” Kagome replied. “He's just bringing my stuff through for me. There's quite a bit of it this time.”

 

True to her word, a moment later Inuyasha appeared over the rim of the Well hauling an enormous sack as well as Kagome's backpack. Both were full to the point of bursting.

 

“Girls,” Inuyasha grumbled. “What a fucking load.” He paused, dropping the sack and turning quite pale.

 

“Are you all right, Inuyasha?” Miroku inquired solicitously, apparently still wary that Inuyasha had seen him with his hands on Kagome. He'd hastily withdrawn the offending appendages into the folds of his sleeves to avoid drawing attention to them.

 

Inuyasha didn't answer, but then the moment passed and his normal color returned.

 

“He's all right,” Kagome assured the monk. “It's just when he goes from white to green that you want to stand clear.”

 

Inuyasha scowled, and Miroku rubbed his chin, looking thoughtful.

 

“So you're still ill, are you?” he remarked. “Well, I suppose you are mortal . . .”

 

As Inuyasha's scowl deepened, and Kagome saw that a hasty change of subject was in order.

 

“Where's Sango?” she asked the monk.

 

“She's with Shippou in the village, helping Kaede cook dinner,” he replied, brightening a little. “There's stew tonight.”

 

“Good,” Inuyasha grunted. “Now help me haul this shit down there before I die.” He happened to glance over and noticed Kagome's sudden blanching at this, so he amended, “Help me haul it before I puke again.”

 

Dutifully the monk took the backpack while Inuyasha slung the bulging sack over one shoulder. With the added weight he sank a good three inches deeper into the snow on the ground than his two companions.

 

By the time they had arrived at Kaede's the night had fallen completely. In the chilly darkness Kagome was cheered by the sight of the firelight shining through the bamboo slats covering the windows of the village houses. She often thought of this village as her second home.

 

`No, wait, that's not quite it,' she thought fondly. `It's more like wherever Inuyasha is, that's my second home.'

 

The object of her affections barely managed to stagger in Kaede's doorway before dropping the sack with a loud thud and scurrying back outside to wretch over the snow. Kagome paused before going in to pat his back comfortingly. As he followed her in his mood seemed to have improved somewhat---either because of the pat or because his guts were through heaving for the time being. As Kagome pushed aside the door hanging she was nearly bowled over by the small ball of brown fur that came hurtling into her arms.

 

“Hi, Shippou!” she greeted him, catching him.

 

“Oh, Kagome, I missed you,” the Kitsune exclaimed, hugging her. “You have no idea how boring it is being here alone with those two.” He pulled away from her long enough to glare at Miroku and Sango, who were now sitting companionably by the fire. “All they ever do any more is sit and talk with each other, and sometimes all they do is sit . . .”

 

Miroku and Sango smiled in unison at this, and Shippou turned away from them in disgust.

 

Then Miroku, because he was Miroku, couldn't resist adding: “That's because that's all she'll let me do . . .”

 

Sango ignored this and said, “Welcome back, Kagome . . . Inuyasha . . . Inuyasha, you still don't look too well.”

 

“Feh,” was Inuyasha's only response as he flopped down into a cross-legged position in front of the fire. “Give me stew,” he demanded of Kaede, pointing at the pot.

 

“Welcome back, Inuyasha,” the old priestess said dryly, stirring the stew with her ladle.

 

“I hate to break the cheerful mood, now that we're all together,” Kagome told them, seating herself beside Inuyasha, “but we came back earlier than we intended for a reason. Otherwise, we would've stayed until Inuyasha was over the flu.”

 

Taking a deep breath, she proceeded to explain everything that had happened since she had first noticed the changes in her time. The others listened with growing concern as her tale unfolded.

 

{+} {+} {+}

 

Fifty miles to the south, in the darkness of a cave, the demoness Kanna listened as well. She sat on a damp, moss-covered rock holding before her a silver disk that shone with unearthly radiance. She watched the images that swam through it, and listened to Kagome's tale with a face utterly devoid of expression. At her side, on a bed of moss, there lay the small, frail form of a baby wrapped in swaddling. Yet the darkness concealed the truth of what it was. In its tiny infant's hands it clutched a fist-sized jewel, stolen from the demon Fuyouheki. The jewel concealed the kehai left by the baby's Youkai presence, and so prevented enemies from finding it. The baby's eyes were sly and fey, and black as the abyss.

 

“Turn the mirror toward me, Kanna,” it said, its voice not the high mewl of an infant but the deep tones of a man. “I wish to see her face as she speaks of Inuyasha's death.”

 

Wordlessly, Kanna angled the mirror's light toward the baby's face.

 

The child who bore Naraku's heart smiled into the darkness.

 

{+} {+} {+}

 

Sesshoumaru did not go to the Seer immediately upon changing out of his snow-sodden clothes. Instead he visited the girl Rin in her own chambers to see that she ate properly. The imps had managed to convey to him that if no one enforced her eating habits the little girl would tend toward eating only meat---a practice which Sesshoumaru couldn't really fault her for, but he sensed that this wasn't healthy for humans. Sesshoumaru himself didn't eat food cooked or sliced or mixed in the human fashion.

 

He had lost his taste for human food long ago on a battlefield, standing among his fallen kin while their blood stained the snow crimson.

 

“Itadakimasu.”

 

He sat and watched Rin eat, though, sitting cross legged in front of her. The little girl wore a silken kimono embroidered with blue and red fish. She was perfectly comfortable with being under Sesshoumaru's sharp scrutiny, and kept herself busy tucking into her dinner. When she had finished, she laid her chopsticks across her bowl and dabbed at her mouth with a towel brought with her wash-basin. Sesshoumaru tolerated nothing less than the best of behavior from her---even when one's Youkai form was an enormous white dog that drooled poison, this did not imply that one's manners should be boorish. The little girl favored him with a sunny, gap-toothed grin, which---despite its human lack of solemnity and disturbing lack of teeth---did not irritate Sesshoumaru at all.

 

Usually after Rin ate she would show him what she had learned during the day---generally what she had read from the scrolls and records she found in the palace storerooms, but occasionally something she'd found lying around that interested her. The latter were a rather kitsch mixture of artifacts left by the Inu Youkai---Rin liked swords the most---or things she'd found in the garden. Once she had brought a pair of mating beetles, which had led to a very interesting conversation:

 

Rin: “Look, milord, this beetle has two heads!”

 

Sesshoumaru: “. . . .”

 

Rin: “Was it born this way?”

 

Sesshoumaru: “They are mating.”

 

Rin: “Oh.”

 

Sesshoumaru: “. . .”

 

Rin: “Why?”

 

Sesshoumaru: “. . .”

 

Rin: “. . .”

 

Sesshoumaru: “Because it is in their nature to breed. They must do this to make more beetles.”

 

Rin: “. . .”

 

Sesshoumaru: “. . .”

 

Rin: “So beetles mate, and I know Youkai come from eggs. But what about humans?”

 

Sesshoumaru: “Do not bring insects into the palace any more. They will breed here and eat holes in the woodwork.”

 

And that, fortunately, had been the end of that.

 

Though he knew it was a sign of his own weakness, Sesshoumaru found that Rin's exuberance made the palace's emptiness seem less acute. Rin had enough exuberance to fill up several chambers at once. She seemed to relish making noise, as if she remembered being mute for her early years and was now making up for lost time.

 

Now that she had finished her dinner, Rin told him, “Jakken says that you have brought a lady here.”

 

“I have found a Seer,” Sesshoumaru answered stiffly. “She will serve me by explaining the visions that she Sees.”

 

Rin wasn't about to be dissuaded from her current train of thought.

 

“Maybe we can play when you are gone,” the little girl mused. Since Sesshoumaru had stopped taking Rin with him when he left the palace, she was alone for most of the day.

 

Sesshoumaru rose swiftly to his feet, suddenly feeling very restless and irritable.

 

“You will stay away from her, Rin,” he ordered, glaring down at her. “The Seer is Tatesei.”

 

Rin frowned, wrinkling her nose.

 

“But the Tatesei do whatever you tell them to, right?” she pressed, tilting her head beguilingly to one side. “So she is not dangerous.

 

Sesshoumaru, who was in the process of leaving, paused in the doorway, glancing back over his shoulder at the little girl sitting on the marble-tiled floor. The imps were already clearing the remains of her meal.

 

“You will not go near her,” he repeated. “She is not a human like you are. If she touches you, you will see nightmares. You will see your memories.”

 

Then he disappeared through the doorway. Rin watched the white flag of his hair fan out behind him as he vanished around the corner, somewhat confused because he seemed sad about something.

 

“But I like my memories,” she protested to the empty room, “because when I woke up again, you were there.”

 

{+} {+} {+}

 

“So somehow, because of something Kagome did, Sesshoumaru and Inuyasha are going to kill each other?” Sango asked slowly. “Or whatever this eye belongs to will destroy them both?”

 

Mutely, Kagome nodded, swallowing back the tears that were threatening to spill.

 

“Hmm.” Kaede rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “I've never known anyone with the gift of foresight. I don't have it, and neither did my sister.”

 

Inuyasha's left ear twitched.

 

“But I will say this,” the old priestess went on. “Never assume that ye know the meaning behind a prophecy. This is not the time to abandon hope.”

 

While the others mulled this over, Kaede proceeded to begin doling out the stew in wooden bowls.

 

“Oh, she's right,” Shippou asserted, breaking the silence and pounding his tiny fist into his palm. “We can't just sit here and let this happen!”

 

“Then what do we do now?” Sango asked. Her hands rubbed absently at her elbows; it was habit that manifested itself when she was worried. Miroku seized the opportunity to sneak an arm around her shoulders.

 

“I think the answer is clear,” the monk responded. “We must go to Reiyama. That is where all this started, according to the legend Kagome-sama heard from Tatesei Sano.”

 

“It does seem the most logical way to go about this,” Kaede remarked, handing Kagome and Shippou their bowls.

 

Inuyasha held out his hands expectantly as she filled the next one.

 

“None for you, Inuyasha,” Kagome told him. “You just threw up, remember? You should just have tea for tonight.”

 

“You said the Tatesei were necromancers,” Sango reminded Miroku. “Even with my demon-slayer's training I'm not sure I know how to handle the spirits of the dead . . .”

 

“I want stew,” Inuyasha insisted, attempting to grab the bowl from Kaede. Kagome grabbed it first and passed it to Miroku.

 

“But they're not necromancers any more,” Shippou told her. “Remember, we told you that Sesshoumaru took over and now he won't let them use it.”

 

Sango looked doubtful.

 

“If they were so powerless without their sorcery, then why is the predicted danger in Reiyama?” she asked.

 

{+} {+} {+}

 

The Seer lay in her chamber upon the bedding provided for her. It was made of green silk, and rustled when she shifted upon it. She would have liked very much to sleep immediately, but she knew that the white demon was coming and there would be no point in trying. Instead she rested her weary head upon the down pillows with her eyes open and her face turned toward the fire blazing in the hearth.

 

She knew that the Youkai lord would be coming because she saw in his eyes the same hunger that she had seen in the eyes of the Tatesei nobles. The Tatesei were obsessed with knowing the outcome of a future they perceived to be uncertain; the Lord of the West was haunted by a past sodden with bitterness and a riddle that he did not understand. There was very little difference between one man's obsession and another's, the way she saw it. Both wanted answers that they did not necessarily deserve to questions that even they were not entirely certain how to ask. The Seer's greatest difficulty lay in deciding whether to answer the questions that they asked her or the questions that plagued them because they were afraid to ask.

 

The Youkai lord entered through the hallway door, his footsteps a soft and measured tread upon the stone floor. He was quiet, this one. The Seer had never known such a creature as this, who wore silence wrapped around him like a cloak. As he entered, she sat up and pulled her veil across her face before turning to face him. He looked down at her, then glanced elsewhere in the room as if searching for something.

 

“Where is the bowl you carried?” he finally asked, in his soft prince's voice. “The dark one.” He moved closer, then settled down onto the floor in a cross-legged position.

 

The Seer obediently fetched it from the corner where she had set it. She threw aside the corner of the bed-sheet that she had used to cover it and placed it between them. There was already plenty of water in it---melted snow that she had collected by placing the bowl in the chamber's window.

 

Sesshoumaru sat perfectly still, his white robes pooling on either side of his body. He watched her intently. The Seer found this unnerving---she was more than a little afraid of him. In her sheltered life she had never met a demon before, and now she was to serve one.

 

“If you lie to me,” the Inu Youkai told her, “I will know. And I will deliver you back to your people. You will not be alive.”

 

The Seer blanched beneath her veil. She was not afraid of him catching her in a lie, but she was afraid that he might interpret something as a lie that was indeed truth.

 

“The only power I have,” she warned him, “is in choosing which questions to answer. I can't lie to you, even if I want to. The gift of prophecy means that truth flows through your lips like water.” She touched the surface of the water in the scrying bowl delicately with one finger. Small, perfect ripples spread outward from her touch. “I am but the vessel for it.” She raised her eyes to his, allowing the gift flowing through her veins to gather and build so that it eclipsed her fear. “Ask your questions, Lord of the West.”

 

{+} {+} {+}

 

“We don't really have any other alternatives,” Miroku reminded them all. “We will have to make the journey as soon as possible.”

 

Kagome's face was a study in misery. She wondered if they were doing the right thing.

 

`What if, by going now, we fulfill the prophecy because we've taken Inuyasha to the place where he'll die?' she thought worriedly.

 

Sango moved to kneel beside her, resting a comforting hand on Kagome's arm and giving it a squeeze.

 

“It will be all right,” she assured Kagome. Then she looked up to address the group. “But don't you all think it would be better if we waited for Inuyasha's illness to pass? I mean, it is winter out there, and we don't want to take any chances, do we? And we've got time, because the unknown threat we're worried about is nowhere near this village.”

 

Inuyasha crossed his arms more tightly, shoving his hands even further into his sleeves.

 

“Feh,” he grumbled. “I feel fine.”

 

“Oh really?” Shippou chimed in. “Of course. That couldn't have been you out there ralphing in the snow a while ago . . .”

 

Kagome scooted closer to him and put a hand on his cheek. He blushed at the closeness of the contact, and then scowled even more because he was blushing.

 

“You're definitely not over this,” Kagome told him. “You're all hot and flushed. You should get some rest now.”

 

Inuyasha, who was not about to explain the real reason for his coloration and temperature, obediently moved off toward his corner of the hut, muttering, “I still want stew,” under his breath as he went.

 

{+} {+} {+}

 

“What do you mean, you cannot answer this?”

 

Sesshoumaru stared down at the woman before him with a mixture of disbelief and the beginnings of anger. Was she defying him, or did she mean that the answer to his question was beyond her ability? Through the blue veil he could see the Seer's eyes widen with fear, and then she looked down quickly at the scrying bowl.

 

“I See why it is you ask this,” she told him in hushed tones. “I See it in the water, as surely as you see me sitting here. There is one who looks like you, whose hair and flesh are white as yours. Yet his blood is not the same, and you hate him for it. You wonder why he was chosen, and you . . . were not.”

 

Sesshoumaru's brow knitted at the way her words eerily echoed his most private of thoughts. Yet he said, “Speak,” and peered down into the depths of the bowl himself, curious to see if he might catch a glimpse of what she was describing.

 

“Jealousy festers in you,” she went on. “You have everything now: power, your father's inheritance, two swords of immeasurable power . . . You no longer desire the sword your brother carries, because you don't need it. But you wonder why he was the one the Tatesei feared. You wondered why he was the one they tried to murder to stop the prediction of Reiyama's destruction from coming to pass . . .” The Seer looked up at him, studying his cold, proud face the way one might study a curiously shaped marble sculpture. “You wonder why the kirin told you . . . that the prophecy chose him to shape destiny . . . and not you.”

 

The white demon lifted his gaze from the scrying bowl, and leaned closer to her with eyes of burning yellow ice.

 

“You will answer,” he told her. His tone, unlike the savagery that shone in his gaze, was deadly soft.

 

The Seer glanced down at her hands, which she removed from the bowl's edges and replaced in her lap.

 

“Foresight is completely unpredictable,” she told him. “It doesn't come at a Seer's beck and call. It often comes when it's least expected. For me to call up a vision of my own volition would mean I need a great deal more power than I actually possess.”

 

“More . . . power?” Sesshoumaru repeated, eyes narrowing further.

 

Recognizing how thin the ground was upon which she was treading, the Seer realized that she couldn't tell him no now and remain breathing for much longer. She had no choice but to look into the scrying bowl and see what it was that she needed.

 

“I see a stone,” she told the Youkai lord. “It falls . . . into the bowl. The stone is white . . . but drops of blood are spattered on it.”

 

Sesshoumaru stared at her, his anger vanishing only to be replaced by dawning realization. He thought he understood, but he had to be sure . . .

 

“I see. Where is this jewel now?” he pressed, peering down into the scrying bowl.

 

The Seer frowned down at the water.

 

“A boy carries it. He is pale---pale as a corpse, but his eyes are dark and alive. Another boy walks beside him . . . a human wearing armor. He carries a sickle on a chain.”

 

Sesshoumaru straightened, pushing at the fur over his shoulder because it had fallen forward when he bent over.

 

“That is Hakudoushi, Naraku's incarnation,” he murmured. “And the stone is the Shikon no Tama.”

 

The Seer looked up from the scrying bowl wearing a troubled expression.

 

“I have heard of this `Jewel of the Four Souls'. They say it was shattered, and now demons and humans both strive to reform it. They say it magnifies the power of the wicked a hundredfold, but that it is purified in innocent hands.”

 

“So you must have the jewel,” Sesshoumaru said slowly, “to reveal the fulfillment of this prophecy, and to explain why it is tied to Inuyasha.” He mulled this over silently for a moment.

 

The Seer continued to gaze into the depths of the bowl, and her expression changed to one of abject horror.

 

“The jewel is needed,” she whispered, “but I do not want it. I See a hand closing around it . . . and then I See fire, flowing like a river to the sea. I See an eye, black as the void, opening.” Her hands gripped the sides of the bowl, turning white at the knuckles. “Oh, do not seek it! I beg of you! Don't bring it here, to the realm of the Tatesei! I fear its very presence will awaken some evil that has been sleeping here. I beg you, do not---”

 

Sesshoumaru's face remained impassive. He leaned forward and, taking hold of her jaw through the veil, forced her to look up from the bowl and its visions. He was inhumanly strong, and she could not break away.

 

“Tell me,” he murmured. “Where is the jewel? Where are Hakudoushi and his servant, Kohaku?”

 

“I beg, you don't ask this of me!” the Seer whispered. Her tears were beginning to soak through the veil, which Sesshoumaru's grip on her face had caused to be pressed closely against her eyes. “It is perilous to bring it here! You will wake the eye, and the skies will rain fire!”

 

Sesshoumaru gave her a shake.

 

“Fool,” he said calmly. “You are Tatesei. You must obey.”

 

From the moment of his ordaining as Lord of the West, Sesshoumaru had always been conscious of the supernatural connection that existed between him and the Tatesei. It was what had bound the Wise to him; it was why they had obeyed him and released the souls of his kindred. It was sorcery, slumbering in his blood until he should call upon it. He had not done so yet. The Wise had obeyed him because they knew he could force them to obey. Yet now . . . this pathetic, weeping creature before him dared to defy him even when she knew it was futile . . .

 

And inside his heart, the slumbering, coiled serpent began to stir.

 

A shadow passed between them---demon and Seer---and though the woman flinched at the shadow's touch, she could not shrink from it because Sesshoumaru's hand held her fast. Then the shadow passed over her face and vanished.

 

For a moment, her lips tightened, and it seemed she had lost her ability to speak.

 

Then, in a voice subdued and hollow, she answered, “The boy carries the Jewel toward a human village. I see a well.”

 

Sesshoumaru had heard all that he needed to hear. He released her and swiftly to his feet; there was no time to waste. The Seer slumped forward, resting both palms on the cold stone floor on either side of the scrying bowl.

 

“Please,” she whispered. “Don't go. Don't let this obsession with knowing the prophecy's answer drive you to folly. The jewel will bring a curse down upon Reiyama.”

 

Sesshoumaru paused at the chamber's threshold, his shoulders and back; squared his head unturned.

 

“Since when,” he asked, “have I ever cared what suffering befalls the Tatesei?”

 

Then he was gone. Alone in her chambers, the Seer trembled with fear. He did not see what she had Seen. His bitterness and jealousy had blinded him to all save his own ambitions.

 

{+} {+} {+}

 

The violet-eyed baby watched Kagome through Kanna's mirror.

 

“So,” he mused, “both brothers are to die. Most interesting. It would seem that this girl has been granted foresight. She has seen what will come . . . when I have at last completed the reforming of the Sacred Jewel.”

 

{END OF CHAPTER 4}