InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Peace Treaty ❯ Connection ( Chapter 11 )

Dawn the following day saw Kagome alone in bed again, but when she reached her arm to the other side, she felt warmth. Sesshoumaru had not been up long. She quickly dressed in her pants and short-sleeved shirt. Mariko had made them so closely to her specifications, that Kagome sought her out the previous afternoon to express her appreciation. She looked for Sesshoumaru, finding him in the dining room. “Good morning.”

 

“You're up early,” he observed, face and voice devoid of emotion.

 

Kagome wished she could read him. She had a request to make and felt her manner was important. Dinner yesterday evening had been pleasant enough. She had taken Gina's advice and tried to act a bit more like he wanted. It hadn't killed her to smile demurely and be quietly polite, but it wasn't her real personality, and she felt like a fake. She, by far, favored the direct approach. “Sesshoumaru, I would like to resume my physical training and exercise this morning. I've had some appropriate clothing prepared, and now I need someone with whom I can spar.”

 

He looked her up and down. “That's your notion of appropriate?”

 

She beat back the sneer that was forming. “I can hardly do much in a kimono. I came to inquire about a sparring partner, not discuss my wardrobe. I'll use my map to get to the training arena; I'll stay out of the way. I'm not asking a great deal.”

 

“It seems like a nuisance to me.”

 

“You said at treaty negotiations I'd be allowed a trial. Are you reneging on a promise?”

 

“Fine,” he sighed. “I'll send Kouga down to judge your abilities.”

 

“I'll need at least an hour, probably two, to myself first.”

 

“Miko, what can you possibly do for two hours?”

 

“I don't exactly see why I need to justify myself and my training methods to you.”

 

“As it is you asking a favor of me, I think I can reasonably expect an explanation of why anyone of competence needs two hours in which to prepare for sparring.”

 

The sneer would no longer be suppressed. “If you must know,” Kagome said through clenched teeth, “it's been nearly a week since I've trained, and I would like to spend an extended period stretching and going through all my forms.”

 

“Forms?”

 

“A form is a sequence of techniques. There are different ones for each discipline. Typically I would only focus on one per day, but I don't want to get too much more out of practice.”

 

He looked at her dubiously. He would indulge her for now, but was already convinced her plans for regular training would not come to fruition. His troops had far more important things to do than accommodate a Ningen woman's silliness. “Just go,” he said dismissively. “I'll send for Kouga.”

 

Kagome didn't trust herself enough to open her mouth. She grabbed a pear from the table and left.

 

“Jaken.” He appeared from around the corner, bowing low. “In an hour go to Commander Garou's quarters and tell him to find me.”

 

Sesshoumaru got to work, reading a message that had arrived the night before from the House of the East. He tried not to think about Kagome, but when he realized he was reading the first sentence for the fifth time, he gave up. At dinner she was docile and respectful, but barely spoke. He'd had the hunch her behavior was affected and forced, and while he desired the effort, they both seemed rather bored. This morning he was pleased that she was the miko he recognized. It disturbed him to think that he might actually prefer her mulishness. Did it bother him more that he didn't understand her or that he didn't understand how she made him feel? He suddenly found himself in the corridor, pacing. He was not given to this kind of behavior, associating it with those who have difficulty with decisions, actions. What was wrong with him?

 

“Lord Sesshoumaru, I was told you wanted to see me.” It was Kouga. Had he really just wasted an hour?

 

“Kouga, there is something I need from you. Lady Kagome has some lunacy in her head about training and sparring with someone. I would like you to go down to the arena and test her abilities. If you think she won't get hurt, I'll let her sit in on elementary sword play or something.”

 

“She wants to do what? I have to…what?”

 

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

 

“Well…I…but…” Kouga was obviously disconcerted by the request.

 

“She's a miko, and she wants to continue training.”

 

“You want me to fight a miko?” The pitch of Kouga's voice rose perceptibly.

 

“She can't use her powers. I simply need you to determine if her level of skill is sufficient that she won't become injured. While we were traveling, we encountered some boar Youkai, and she killed one, though I have a feeling it was probably luck. ”

 

“Why me?” Kouga asked. Fighting a female was bad enough. The fact that she was his lord's mate flustered him greatly.

 

“Because I trust you not to hurt her, I know you can adequately gauge her strength, and you will be honest with me afterward. And I'm busy.”

 

Kouga thought Sesshoumaru looked busy treading a hole in floor, but said nothing.

 

An hour later Kouga sat down heavily in Sesshoumaru's study, breathing hard and sweating profusely, with copious amounts of blood streaming out his nose.

 

Sessoumaru stared at him. “You're pathetic. Did you even try?”

 

“She can handle whatever you throw at her,” Kouga said, matter-of-fact.

 

Sesshoumaru raised an eyebrow and continued to stare, saying nothing.

 

“She's fast and knows how to use a sword, but it's more than that. She is completely aware of the limit of her strength and works around it. She picked out my vulnerabilities and used them against me before I even knew she noticed. A very intuitive fighter. Go see her tomorrow if you don't want to take my word for it.”

 

“Is she still down there?”

 

“No, she went to the infirmary.”

 

“Is she hurt?” Sesshoumaru asked, worry apparent.

 

“No, she's helping Lady Gina change bandages.”

 

“Why aren't you there? You're bleeding everywhere.”

 

Kouga rubbed the back of his head and looked at the floor. “Lady Gina scares the pants off me,” he mumbled.

 

“Good grief. Is this what being mated has done to you? Get up; I'll go with you.”

 

They walked together in the direction of the infirmary. “I like her, Lady Kagome,” Kouga said, grinning.

 

“Congratulations.”

 

“You've not mated yet. I may not have your sense of smell, but I can still tell. Trouble in paradise?” Kouga knew just how far he could go in taunting Sesshoumaru, or so he thought.

 

“Another word, wolf, and I'll give you a broken arm to go with your bloody nose.”

 

XXXXX

 

Kagome entered the infirmary experiencing the sense of euphoria she often had after exercise. Kouga had been a good sparring partner. At first she thought he was significantly holding back, as if he was merely testing her, but she soon had him on the defensive. It was only a matter of time before he tried to use brute strength against her. It threw off his center of balance, allowing her to get close and elbow him in the face. The pain shocked him, and he dropped his sword. He seemed impressed and had the good humor and humility to let her examine his nose. Not broken. She was glad. She liked Kouga. He was friendly and easy to be around. She couldn't help but contrast him with cold, silent Sesshoumaru. Gina had called him caring. Kagome wondered if he would ever let her see that.

 

“Good gods, you're a sight! You're flushed and dripping with sweat. What have you been doing?” Gina appeared genuinely pleased to see her, despite her appearance.

 

“I was sparring with Commander Garou.”

 

“Sparring? Oh, of course, miko know how to fight. Are you injured?”

 

“No, I feel better than I have in a while. I came up to assist you. If I could just wash up a little first? I brought a change of clothes.”

 

“You fought Kouga?”

 

“He might be coming here soon. I bloodied his nose pretty good.”

 

“Kouga? I know Ayame has him utterly under her thumb, but he has the reputation as a tough warrior. He's Sesshoumaru's second-in-command.”

 

“I think he didn't know what to expect.”

 

“Lady Kagome, you're becoming more interesting by the minute. I've got some hot water. I'll put it in a basin, and you can set up a screen in the corner to change.”

 

A few minutes later, Gina gave Kagome a stack of bandages and some ointment and told her where to start. She first went to an older Youkai, who seemed frightened, but her gentle hands and relaxed smile put him at ease. Kagome had a suspicion the essence of poppy didn't hurt.

 

The next Youkai was very young and had his whole left arm and hand bandaged. His bright orange hair made Kagome think he was perhaps another kitsune. “Hello, my name is Kagome. I'm going to change your bandage and check to see how your burn is healing. Is that okay?” He nodded solemnly. “Are you a fox Youkai?” Another nod. “What's your name, cutie?”

 

“Shippou. Are you a Ningen?”

 

“Yes, but I promise I won't hurt you.” Kagome slowly unwrapped the bandage. His skin was red and blistered, with no sign of infection. “How does it feel? Any better?”

 

“It hurts a lot.”

 

“Did Lady Gina give you anything to take the hurt away?”

 

“Yeah, but it made me itch all over, so she said I shouldn't have any more.”

 

“She's probably right. You're very brave to suffer this burn with no medicine.” Shippou smiled. Kagome reapplied ointment, put on a fresh, loose wrap, then fluffed up his hair. “Can I come visit you tomorrow?” He smiled wider and nodded enthusiastically.

 

She had just finished with Shippou when Sesshoumaru and Kouga walked in. Kouga's nose was still leaking blood. Kagome rushed over. Kouga smiled meekly at her. “It's still bleeding.”

 

Kagome frowned at him. “Well if you keep walking around like that I'm not surprised. Come sit down.”

 

She brought over a basin of water and towel and washed his face gently. “Now pinch your nose up here and tip your head forward a little. Don't move for about ten minutes.”

 

“Shouldn't I tilt my head back?”

 

“If you want the blood to drain down your throat and make you sick, go ahead.” He did as he was told. When Kagome was sure he would obey her instructions, she straightened up and patted his head. “Good boy,” she said. Then she saw Sesshoumaru. “Oh…hello.”

 

“Miko.” Sesshoumaru had been watching Kagome attend to Kouga with increasing agitation. She'd held his face in one hand while tenderly cleansing it with the other, all competence and compassion. His jealousy was as unfamiliar as his wish to be on the receiving end of her attention. “I've been told you're an adequate fighter.”

 

“Adequate?” She glanced at Kouga and crossed her arms. She refused to let her good mood be ruined and kept her tone light and teasing. “So an opponent with a bloodied nose is a sign of adequacy? Had I broken it, would I be called…mediocre?”

 

“I'll watch tomorrow and assess you myself.”

 

She noticed there was something new in the way he was looking at her. His eyes were warmer, less aloof. “I look forward to it.” She smiled softly.

 

“Would you like to dine with me again this evening?”

 

Her face fell. “I can't. Tonight is the full moon, and I fast before ritual. Tomorrow?”

 

“My parents should be back by then. Perhaps we can all take dinner together.”

 

“I'd like that.”

 

Gina walked up. “Sesshoumaru, what a pleasant surprise! You aren't a frequent visitor to this part of the manor.” She saw Kouga. “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” she sighed. “What will Ayame say when she sees that shirt, Kouga?”

 

He groaned. Kagome suddenly felt terrible; she did not want to be the cause of trouble. “Kouga, let me help take off your shirt. If I get it soaking right away, it shouldn't stain too badly.” She started to untie his belt and slip the shirt off a shoulder.

 

Gina observed Sesshoumaru. He looked like he was about to kill someone. She managed to suppress her mirth while she took his arm and pulled him aside. “Don't you dare do anything in here; the infirmary is my domain. Sessh, calm down. She's being helpful.”

 

“Gina, mind your own business.”

 

“Now when have I ever done that?” Gina moved in front of him and looked in his eyes, gold upon gold. “Try appreciating her for who she is, instead of resenting her for what she is not. You both might end up very happy.” She turned. “Lady Kagome, I'll take that nasty thing. Thank you for your help. I can finish up here on my own. Kouga, I'll bring you a clean shirt.”

 

“Are you certain?” Kagome asked. “I don't mind staying.”

 

“No, no. You two go back together.”

 

As they walked back, Kagome perceived Sesshoumaru was upset, but she didn't know why. She thought they had the beginnings of a connection, but, though his original coldness was still absent, something was different, strained. She stopped, laying a hand on his arm. “Sesshoumaru, have I done something wrong?”

 

Excluding annoy, infuriate, impress, and bewilder me? Something other than cause me to doubt my sanity, experience jealousy, and accept advice from an unwelcome source? “No, Kagome. You've done nothing wrong.” They walked back in comfortable silence, Kagome's hand still on his arm.

 

XXXXX

 

Kagome started across the grounds toward her altar, tools in tow. She had gone to the baths at sundown for ceremonial purification. Now ready, clean and cold, she was eager to begin. The night was perfect—cloudless and clear, moon huge and gleaming white. Upon reaching the spot, she knelt in front of it, laying her palms flat on the tall, stacked stone. It was ideal. Off-white, marbled with deep green and blue, it had been quarried locally, she'd been told. Kagome could feel the steady strength of the Earth pulsing from it.

 

She took three bowls, her knife, her crystal, and a candle from her bag. She arranged them on the stone. Then came a skin, full of spring water, contents poured into one bowl. She picked up her knife and, a small distance from the altar, displaced some soil, which she scooped into another bowl, both knife and bowl placed reverently back on the altar. She lit the candle using her flintbox and a small tinder, then took out a container of salt. She removed her shoes and tossed them and the bag away.

 

She walked around the altar, sunwise, sprinkling salt, in a perfect circle. She sat inside the salt-rimmed circle, a few feet away from the edifice, cross-legged, eyes closed, unmoving. After nearly an hour meditating, she stood and let her kimono slither down her body, pooling on the dead grass. She walked, naked, to the altar and knelt before it, then lowered her forehead to the ground, black hair filigreed against her white back. After several minutes she straightened and picked up the bowl containing the dirt. Raising it skyward, she said, “Earth, my body.” She set it back down and lifted another bowl. “Water, my blood.” She extended her arms out from her sides, palms up, head tilted back. “Wind, my breath.” She held up the candle. “Fire, my spirit.”

 

She spilled some earth from one bowl into the empty vessel, then did the same with the bowl containing the water. She swirled them together and raised it up. Setting it back on the altar, she let her arms hang to her sides and tipped her head back, allowing the lunar light to shine fully on her face and chest. She extended her arms again and lifted them toward the moon. She straightened once more and picked up her knife. She thrust her knife into the cold night air, point upward, then plunged it down into the bowl holding the union of earth and water. She was still, merely breathing for several minutes. She set the knife down and elevated her crystal. She slipped the chain, from which the crystal was suspended, around her neck. Again she lifted her face and, with painful slowness, leaned back until her spine was almost parallel with the ground, arms out, crystal hanging between her breasts, moonlight igniting the skin of her face and body to near transparency. After an agonizingly long time, she pulled up straight and bowed her head, hair curtaining her face.

 

Kagome then collapsed in a heap. She came back to her senses slowly. The beads had inhibited her ability to fully absorb energy, but nonetheless, she felt more centered than before and, knife and crystal fully charged, the connection to the Sisterhood was beyond price.

 

Her unknown watcher in the woods stayed perfectly still as she dressed and packed up her belongings. He had to resist the urge to rush to her when she crumpled to the ground, forcing himself to trust her and her knowledge of the ritual. He had felt ashamed for clandestinely following her, but his curiosity and need to understand her won over. It was nothing to the self-reproach he experienced when she shed her clothes. He knew he was doing something forbidden and felt reprehensible for dishonoring her so, but couldn't force himself to tear his gaze away. The shape of her body was unexpected. He had carried her and felt her taut, lean muscles, but her curves were a revelation. Her shapely calves had been on displayed that morning, but her high, round backside had been hidden. Also obscured, now visible were her flat belly, tiny waist, and full, arching breasts. Her arms, which appeared at first to be so skinny, were actually tightly toned, as was her back. Her skin was clear and white and scattered with scars. On one upper arm they looked like lace.

 

The beauty of her body was matched by the quiet, simplicity of the rite. Her controlled movements and the grace with which they were performed made the symbolism breathtaking in its loveliness. He was moved, an uncommon occurrence. As she strode back to the manor, he took a roundabout way, but his speed left no doubt to who would arrive first. He was already in bed when she entered the room.

 

“You're back. Is it cold out?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

 

“A bit, but I mostly was in a meditative trance and didn't notice.”

 

“Did you accomplish what you wanted?”

 

“Yes, it was good. Thank you. I'm a bit worn out from it.” She got into bed, fully clothed, but, Sesshoumaru noticed, without her knife under her pillow.