InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Peace Treaty ❯ Fathers ( Chapter 21 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

“How'd you acquire this one?” Sesshoumaru asked as he softly bit the scar on Kagome's hip.

“You're tickling,” she said, squirming. “If I recall, questions about that particular scar got you in some trouble not long ago.”

“Hm.” He switched to the licking the curve of her waist.

“I was attacked by a group of lizard Youkai while doing an apprenticeship at a fishing village. A spear scraped me, deeply. It was luck I turned when I did, or I would have been gored full on.”

“Such a dangerous life you've led, miko,” he taunted as he worked up to her chest.

“Ow, I told you to watch the tits. Extra sensitive, remember?” Kagome's moon blood was soon to flow, always presaged by sore breasts.

Sesshoumaru kissed a nipple gently. “Ningen women are such strange creatures.” He wasn't sure about all human women, but his mate was certainly fascinating. Her cheeky stubbornness was vexing and tried his patience to no end, but, in the week since he had marked her, he found her curiosity and honesty more and more intriguing, despite himself. Her fierce intensity in their bedroom was both thrilling and endearing and made his past Youkai lovers, who tended toward passivity while mating, utterly forgettable. He put his mouth on hers, and she kissed back, tongues tangling and tasting.

His deft fingers found a scar on her elbow. “And here?”

“I got nicked standing too close to the archery field when some miko were having a lesson on elementary target practice.” She looked him in the eyes. “Why the attraction to my scars?”

“I don't have any of them,” he answered simply.

“Oh, so are we interested in the unfamiliar? That explains my fondness for your…” she looked down his body, below his waist, and back up, “…fangs,” she said with a smirk.

“I'll show you my fangs, you rotten, little miko,” he muttered, grabbing her about the waist and flipping her over. Feeling a twinge of guilt at seeing her striped back, he kneaded her lithe, muscled flesh tenderly.

“Ohhh…that's nice. Don't stop.”

He massaged her shoulder blades and upper arms, then back down, past her small waist, to the juncture of her legs. He guided her hips up, so she was on her knees, and rubbed her smooth thighs, encouraging them apart. He felt heat radiating and, relishing the smell and taste of her, licked the exposed folds, barely visible in the early dawn sun. Kagome gasped into the pillow she was gripping, burying her face. Though his oral attentions always left her breathless, this way was new. The position left her feeling vulnerable, but over the last week he had been mindful of her feelings of the past, and her lingering fears of desire had been coaxed out and abandoned, leaving her with total trust that he wouldn't hurt her. A trust that was erotic for both of them.

His tongue plunged and probed, responding to her cues, yet teasingly, he denied her the fulfillment she sought. She moaned his name.

“Tell me what you want, miko.”

She knew he wanted her to beg, but she refused. With the trust he would not hurt her, also came trust that he wouldn't reject her, and the perverse joy she took in getting him riled often filtered into their sexual relations. She lifted her head slightly. “I thought you were going to show me your fangs, demon.”

He growled and sank his teeth into her leg, exercising enough moderation that he only just broke the skin. Kagome got up on her hands, turned toward him, and grinned evilly. “I see we're still at a stalemate, demon…neither losing control. I'll have you begging me before the year is done.”

“You're in a rather compromised position to be making claims such as that, miko,” he observed, refusing to let her goad him further. He licked the twin drops of blood forming on the surface of her skin, then knelt behind her. She felt his hands, claws digging into her hips, aligning her opening to his erection. He thrust into her. “Ohh Kagome,” he sighed, the sudden reintroduction to her hot, wet tightness never failing to catch him off guard. He stayed for a moment, deep inside, and ran a palm along the length of her spine.

She was blissful, finally granted her wish for his hardness to fill her. When he first took her in what he called the `traditional Inu position,' she thought she wouldn't like the inability to touch him, to feel his body's heat along the length of hers. But the orgasm that hit, rattled her teeth and made her lightheaded. The position was certainly primal, allowing them both to explore their more animal nature. He slammed into her roughly, the difference in their sizes making her knees raise off the bed. She turned to look at him, the mask of indifference gone, ecstasy clear and sharp as winter wind. She reached back and took his hand, bringing it under, to her nerve core. Holding his hand and pressing his fingers there, she circled her hips to match the tempo of his movements, grinding against him. Their pace increased and, feeling crazed and frantic with need, she raggedly screamed, “Harder!” It was the catalyst she required. Waves of pleasure pulsed over her. She felt his claws stab her hip as he groaned, shuddering while he pushed as deeply as he could, her name on his breath, just audible.

Without withdrawing, he gently laid his body on hers and rolled them together so they were lying on their sides. His arm pressed her back against his smooth chest, and she melted into him as their heart rates returned to something resembling normal. Kagome hugged the arm to her, captivated by the way they fit together. They lay quietly. Long enough for the rapture she felt to morph into drowsiness.

“You've got to be kidding,” she protested sleepily when she felt him move off the bed.

“The sky's lightening; I've got work to do. Go back to sleep, Kagome.” By the time he was done dressing, her breathing was slow and even, and he knew she heeded his advice.

XXXXX

Kagome walked briskly across the main courtyard toward the training grounds. The bleak midday sun high in the sky, and she was furious with herself for sleeping so late. She had been practicing with General Inutaisho and Sesshoumaru's soldiers on a regular basis, but at this point in the day, no one would be there any longer, having other duties after drills and sparring. Perhaps though, she thought, it's better this way. She hadn't had the arena to herself in a while, and some time alone, to simply stretch and go through forms, sounded appealing. Not to mention, she did not even want to entertain the idea of getting hit in her sore chest. If someone had told her a year ago she would be training with Youkai troops, not killing anyone, actually enjoying the acceptance and camaraderie, even the rough, ribald sense of humor, she would have sought a declaration of insanity for herself. Then again if she'd been told that she'd be warming the bed of a Demon Lord, looking forward to the setting sun as it meant that soon they would be together, tearing up sheets, certainly she would have been suicidal. She smiled secretly, reflecting on how much had changed.

It had been two weeks since they had arrived, and she was settling into the pattern of life at the manor with such ease, she often forgot they had all been enemies at one time. Her days usually started at the training arena, followed by hours at the infirmary, helping Gina. The two were learning much from each other, and Kagome was beginning to feel as close to Sesshoumaru's cousin as she had to her best friends at the Sisterhood. She thought for a while Gina was a little bit in love with her—her friend, Taka, had confessed those feelings for her on a few occasions. Kagome decided Gina couldn't be. She was too happy for her and Sesshoumaru, and the times she caught Gina staring warmly at her were because of respect and sisterly affection.

Her relationship with Sesshoumaru…their wills still clashed frequently. She knew her intractability was his chief daily irritant. However she was only willing to change to a certain degree, and she suspected he privately admired her strength of character. When he wasn't threatening her with a gag, a spanking, or a painful death, of course. She trusted the threats were idle, and they were settling into a comfortable rhythm with each other.

Kagome arrived at the arena, empty as anticipated. She started with simple, soft reaches, working out the chill that had crept into her bones as she walked the courtyard, and extended to deep, intense stretches, requiring focus, making her sweat. She moved on to forms, first empty-hand, then staff. Finishing with sword forms, her favorite, she took her time. She commenced with the first, facile movements she learned as a girl. She went over them a second time. The motions were so basic, so fundamental, they could not be rushed or dismissed. She drew on her memory and worked on every sequence she had ever been taught, impressed by the cognizance of her muscles. Even forms she hadn't done in years came to mind without difficulty. How many hundreds of times had she done these very movements? Her last form was only taught to miko achieving mastery, those who treated the sword as a part of themselves, not as something to wield. It was aggressive, almost entirely comprised of attacks and counter-attacks, punctuated by high kicks followed by lethal thrusts. It left her breathing heavily.

She finished. The spell that had been cast by the beautiful motions and her own concentration dissolved. She suddenly noticed General Inutaisho, standing near an entrance and watching her with a mixture of awe and curiosity. Kagome half-smiled at him, arching an eyebrow questioningly. General Inutaisho smiled back and nodded barely perceptibly, acknowledging the silent communication between them. He unsheathed his sword; Kagome bowed to him, then raised her own.

“First blood?” she asked.

“First blood,” he agreed.

They stood apart a moment, but this was no cat and mouse game. They both ran at each other, attacking. The clash of their blades rang like ancient, deadly music. They struck simultaneously, then immediately counter-struck. She spun and got in close, but he blocked. They flew apart, rejudged the distance separating them and attacked again. They fought, matching strike for strike, spinning, kicking. Their battle looked like a fatal dance, but there was nothing savage in the careful grace, the elegant precision. Kagome learned his style, calculating strengths and weaknesses. He was much larger than she. In her experience an opponent would use that in an effort to overpower her, usually to his downfall. But the General was shrewd. He knew better than to let her speed frustrate him, knew better than to give her an opening.

They separated and stood still, swords held chest high, minds occupied with strategy. The Youkai and the Ningen were caught up in a cherished art form, each reverent of the other's skill at the craft, as they circled and analyzed. Taking two slow steps toward one another, then increasing velocity, they came again. He raised his sword high, and she sought to go low, in order to throw him off-balance, but he'd been watching and knew her style. He jumped when she swept, and now it was Kagome who was off balance. General Inutaisho brought his sword down as she rolled, cutting her sleeve. Kagome sprang away and pushed her sleeve up. There was a long, red scratch, but no liquid blood. She grinned with determination; she'd not had this level of opponent in a long while, maybe ever. But then again, this was the Lord General of the West. They weren't called Taiyoukai for nothing.

General Inutaisho knew she had been shaken and attacked without waiting for her to refocus. Kagome, however, recognized he would take any advantage and was ready. She summoned her strength and deflected the thrust, followed with a kick to the ribs, and back-flipped to give herself some room. He was amazed by her nimbleness. They charged again. He was fast, and she was having difficulty connecting any kicks. She was quickly tiring, an infusion of numbness settling into her arms because of the force of his blows. Knowing this had to end soon, she faked and attempted a kick to the head, but he anticipated this, having seen so many of his soldiers fall for the maneuver, and blocked easily. Shit, Kagome thought, he's no dumbass. She tried the same ploy, feint—high kick, again, with the same results. She's getting desperate, he thought. She faked again, but instead of the high kick against which he was set to defend, she planted a heel squarely just below his sternum, affecting the nerves in the pit of his stomach. He groaned and attempted a retreat, but it was too late. Kagome lunged, slicing his forearm.

A single drop of blood fell to the bone-colored wood floor. It was joined by three more drops, perfectly circular, perfectly red. They screamed accusingly at Kagome. She gasped, bowed her head, and let the sword slip from her fingers. The lonely ring of the metal hitting the floor was not an adequate apology. “Lord General, forgive me.”

Clawed fingers lifted her chin. They locked eyes. Kagome stared unblinking at the golden intensity, so like Sesshoumaru's, but now in the weathered, fiercely handsome face of his father. He suddenly grinned broadly. “I knew it! Your combat acumen, your abilities…damn it all Kagome, why did they let you get away from them?” Kagome was speechless. General Inutaisho put his arm around her shoulders. “Would that I had an entire squadron with half your skill. I guess I gained a son as well as a daughter in you.” He saw her slack-jawed expression. “What's the matter?”

“I…ah…you're not angry?”

“Hell no! Damned impressed more like.” He looked at his arm. “That'll need stitched. Walk with me to see Gina. Hell, you could sew me up yourself.”

As they walked toward the infirmary General Inutaisho asked Kagome if she would help train some younger soldiers. “Your fighting style wouldn't necessarily suit all, but the smaller ones could certainly benefit from your experience. Where I'd really like to use you, though, is archery. We have neglected giving the discipline its fair treatment for far too long. I saw your aim. You can teach the young ones proper form and alignment before they learn bad habits. What do you say?”

“I'm flattered you think so highly of me, General,” Kagome said, face pink, “but what will Lady Seiobo say? I think she barely tolerates the amount of contact I have with your troops as it is.”

“Oh, she'll be angry.” He chuckled. “Probably angry enough to birth a litter of kittens, but you let me worry about her.”

“And Sesshoumaru?”

“He'll be a tougher nut to crack…I'll work on him. I won't ever intentionally do anything to drive a wedge between you.”

They entered the infirmary, deserted but for an elderly Youkai sleeping in a bed at the far end of the room. “Make yourself comfortable, General. I'll gather a few things and be right with you.”

Kagome exited the storage room bearing towels, bandages, a tincture, an oil, ointment, needle, and string and balancing a basin of steaming water on her hip. “I think it will be easier if you lie down.”

General Inutaisho complied. Kagome arrayed her implements on the nearby table and slid over a low stool. She spread a towel under the injured arm and began to gently wash dried blood, avoiding the gash itself. “I'll use this garlic tincture to cleanse the wound, then clove oil. They'll both sting, but the clove will deaden sensation while I suture.”

“You're much more softhearted than Gina. I think she'd salt the wound, then find her stoutest needle for the job. She's got a nasty sadistic streak, that one.”

“Surely not. Gina is a skilled healer.”

“Oh aye, she's that. But the endless parade of injured soldiers through her door annoys her to no end. She is of the opinion that grown males doing each other bodily harm by choice deserve the little bit of extra punishment she metes out. Did you learn healing as a miko?” He winced from the application of the oil.

“Yes, it's part of our training.” She threaded the needle and gently began to stitch.

“Tell me more about your training. How are you chosen?”

“Any girl or woman showing potential is allowed to join. Potential is the ability to take in and harness moon energy. No one knows why some have it or why it is only females. Some families produce many miko, but typically, it is not thought to be transmitted by blood. It is usually discovered by suddenly being able to sense Youki.”

“Are any ever turned away?”

“Often. The training is vigorous, and not all are capable of managing the rigors. Some fall in love and quit to start a family. Some are thrown out for transgressions. The many years are physically demanding and intellectually exhausting. The life afterward is fulfilling and miko are greatly respected and vital to Ningen society, but the responsibility…the safety and health of an entire village riding on her shoulders. Many find the pressure too much and retire to teach or even become reclusive, selling love potions or good luck charms to the gullible. We are not supposed to use our powers but for the defense of Ningen against Youkai.”

“Interesting. And it was this from which we spirited you away? Why were you so willing to choose such a difficult path?”

“I felt a calling.” Kagome smiled coyly. “Why all the questions about miko? Are you trying to get me to reveal the mysteries of the Sisterhood, or is it Ningen women you find so engrossing?”

“Why, Lady Kagome, are you flirting with me?”

Kagome laughed. “Let's just say it's pleasant to have a civil conversation with someone whose replies are longer than one or two words.”

“No, my son's not the most verbose dog in the den. But I'll answer your question with a question. Why did the Ningen generals never mobilize miko into an army or assimilate them as part of their own?”

“The Earth created the Sisterhood for the protection and defense of individual villages and settlements. We were never intended to be used as a tool in war, at least not since the first great battle. Miko have certainly fought in combat, when their villages are threatened, but the independence of the institution is considerable.”

“I understand. I have witnessed miko in battle. Your own prowess is immense. Kagome, I have always said, if the Ningen generals would use all miko as one weapon, the war would be over in a week. There is no way in the seven hells Youkai society could face an organized army of miko. It is one of the reasons the peace treaty was sought so arduously.” He paused briefly. “Kagome, it is time you were taken into our confidence and involved in discussions concerning a secret Ningen weapon. Does the word kayaku mean anything to you?”

Kagome thought a moment and frowned. “No, it is unfamiliar. What is it?” She tied a knot in the suture string and cut the excess away.

“We're not exactly sure, but soon we will be hosting the other three Houses here to compare intelligence and plan our next move. I would like you to be part of that. You may have information, as a Ningen, that we could never hope to obtain.”

“You want me to help Youkai against Ningen?” Kagome asked incredulously. “I know I've been marked and whatnot, but truly, I hope you're joking.”

“Kagome, this kayaku is being developed surreptiously by renegades from your Council. It would undermine the peace treaty. We are preparing to send envoys to the Council to enlighten them, but first we need to learn more. This weapon means the resumption of war; something we can agree must be avoided. Your input is invaluable.”

Kagome realized the implications of the trust he was putting in her. “It would be a privilege.”

“I'm glad. Now I just need to find a mate for Azami, and my troubles will be surmountable.”

“Why not Lord Sato's son?”

“Sato is a great friend and my most trusted advisor. His son, however, was fostered with the Yamaguchi family, Okuri's most steadfast supporters. His loyalties are, at best, conflicted. No, I'll need to look to a secure ally with an unmated son. It has been driving Seiobo close to distraction keeping Azami away from the Sato residence. I wouldn't put it past my luck to have those two succumb to love at first sight or some nonsense.”

Kagome dabbed ointment on the gash and loosely wrapped a bandage. “Why didn't you kill Okuri when he first rebelled against you? I'm not bloodthirsty,” she added quickly. “I was just curious.”

General Inutaisho was pensive as he sat up. “I've asked myself that several times over the years, but I refuse to regret. I let Okuri live because I wanted the killing to stop. My own father was killed by Okuri's mother's brother, hoping to secure the West for his family, with his sister serving as Okuri's regent. Death rarely does aught but beget new death. Revenge is powerful. I let him live because I wanted to do the honorable thing. I will never accept that striving for peace is wasted time.”

Kagome sighed. “My own father was the same. He was a serious man, and I think in a different world he would have been a scholar, but times of war limit choices, to put it mildly. It is the knowledge that he longed for peace that made me decide not to run away when I was travelling to Shiga for negotiations.”

The Taiyoukai was suddenly solemn. “There's another matter, child. It should have been aired some time ago, but I feel justified in waiting. This will be as difficult for me to tell as it will be for you to hear.”

Kagome was puzzled and remained quiet.

General Inutaisho seemed to be searching for words. Before he spoke, Gina entered.

“Uncle, Kagome. What have we here?” She took in Kagome's state of dress, the General's bandaged arm, bloody towels, and needle. The evidence spoke for itself. “My my my. I'm not sure which of your mates will be more upset,” she said with mock seriousness.

“Now Gina,” General Inutaisho began, “ignorance is bliss. There's no need to tell a soul.”

Gina smiled conspiratorially. “I'll keep your secret, but if the truth comes out, don't look to me.”

“I'd best be going. Endo's going to wonder what happened to me. Kagome come find me tomorrow, and we'll talk. And well done.”

“I'm glad you're not mad at me.” She teased, “Getting beat by a girl and all.”

The General laughed loudly. “There's no shame in falling to a powerful opponent. Hell, my own son overtook me when he was still wet behind the ears. The children you two will have…gods help us.”

After he left Gina helped Kagome tidy, and as they chatted idly, Kagome noticed a dull cramp in her abdomen and felt wetness between her legs. “Gina, I've got to go back to my room. See you tomorrow?”

“I look forward to it.” Gina kissed her cheek before she exited.

She had gone to Mariko a few days prior to obtain a long piece of cloth with which to wrap her breasts and some strips to catch her blood. At the Sisterhood they had filled swatches with absorbent wood shavings, but she wouldn't know where to get that here, and would probably be too embarrassed to ask if she did. Rags would have to suffice. The idea that she was the only female who would bleed monthly was odd after so many years spent with Ningen women. She reached her room and, fashioning a belt, secured a piece of cloth to soak up her blood, then changed into a warm kimono.

The General's comment about her and Sesshoumaru's children made her think about hanyou again. She wandered into the study and saw that the shelves were filled with volume after volume of historical texts. She wondered if Sesshoumaru had actually read all of them. Not knowing where to begin, she scanned the shelves. Many of the books and scrolls had to do with the history of the Inutaisho clan and the history of the House of the West. She supposed those might help, but she was hoping the title Hanyou Through the Ages would leap out at her. There was one whole bookcase housing nothing but military histories. Boring, she thought, then Decisive Battles, 1710-1760 caught her eye. Fukuoka was in 1754. She carefully pulled the text off the shelf and sat at the desk.

She flipped toward the end of the book. The section for which she searched practically opened before her. The binding was well-worn in that spot; it had been read frequently. She scanned the words that related the common history through Youkai eyes. The events building up to the battle. Ningen desperation. Assured Youkai victory. The Battle of Fukuoka.

The Battle of Fukuoka. Her heart raced as she read the words, the drumbeat in her ears deafening. The House of the West led the force in pursuit. There was an honorable Ningen unit left behind, bravely giving their comrades an escape. Sesshoumaru was mentioned by name. Her eyes teared up with the realization that he had been there. One by one the Ningen went down as the remainder of their torn army crossed the bridge. The bridge was burnt, the mission, successful. The final bout. General Higurashi. Her father. She read, with horror, a description of his last moments. No Ningen had ever known; none survived to tell.

She felt sick. She couldn't breathe and nausea coursed over her. Kagome Higurashi closed her eyes, willing away tears. She centered and opened dry eyes, grimly determined and stone faced. Rising and removing her knife from her belted pack, she went to find her father's killer.