InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Peace Treaty ❯ Healing ( Chapter 53 )

Kagome ran through the orderly rows of her family's peach orchard, looking past tree trunks for a glimpse of her father. The earlier dream had brought her to his study, but this one wore a different face. Though Kurono and Akagawa had felled every tree in the grove to make way for their factories, in her dream state, Kagome did not question. It was exactly as she remembered from her childhood; details that she had thought forgotten were vivid and precise. The lazy, busy hum of bees overhead, dipping into blossoms; the honey-thick smell that clung to the myriad shades of pink; the distinct springy feel of layers of mulch underfoot. In her dream that morning, she had been content to sit near the door and watch her father as he read, carefully turning pages and making notes, as she had so often watched him many years ago; now she wandered around flowering trees, her step quick with the expectation of finding him again.

She found him sitting at the base of the tree she and her brother had loved the most. It was the largest in the orchard, sturdy and with branches able to carry her weight as she reached for fruit. After she had picked as many peaches as she could carry, Daichi would catch her and they would eat them in the shade as he told her the story of Momotaro, the heroic Peach Boy. It was a special place, associated with a truly pleasant part of her childhood.

“You came back,” she said, smile wide on her face.

Hayate Higurashi looked up at his daughter, eyes filled with sadness and affection. “I never left.” He gestured for her to sit next to him.

Kagome sank to the ground and, after a brief moment of awkward hesitation, gave in to her impulse and hugged him tightly. She clung to him like a little girl, one who wanted to be safe and laugh all the laughs that War and death had denied them. Her father's shoulders were still broad and strong, and his back straight. His eyes were still clear, and the lines on his face had not deepened or increased in number since the last time she saw him, more than a decade past. He hadn't aged at all. Her girlish feelings fled as she remembered who and what she was—a miko, fighter and healer, and a wife, someday to be a mother. Suddenly even the dream-like acceptance seemed wrong.

“Is this real?” she asked, carefully pulling away.

“It's your dream, Kagome. It's as real as you want it to be.” Her growing confusion showed on her face. “What's the matter, child,” he asked.

Kagome looked down at her hands folded in her lap. “They told me I died…but I'm still alive. I don't understand what it means. Any of it.”

“Death and life. Searching for meaning can be a pointless endeavor. It's arbitrary and, more often than not, unfair.” General Higurashi stroked her chin and tilted her face up to look at him. “That said, I do believe you were returned to the mortal world for a reason. A family wrong to put right, a part to play in history…or perhaps it simply was not your time yet. You have been given a gift and a responsibility.”

Kagome had no wish to open up old wounds, but she could not hide her reaction. “A gift?” she scoffed. “I'm still here because my mate owns a life-restoring sword. You had a chance at life, and you chose to die. Don't speak to me about gifts or responsibilities.”

General Higurashi sadly shook his head and his shoulders slumped under an unseen weight. “The honorable warriors' code,” he said after a pause, “I am sure you've come to realize, benefits only those who live by it. Everyone else is left to pick up the scattered pieces. Our world loves the strong and heaps suffering on the weak. As a miko, though your code is to shelter the weak, you must also understand what it means to die for a cause greater than yourself. Kagome…I am sorry that you were alone and I was not there to protect you. My only comfort is that you are now among those who love you.”

Kagome swallowed hard. She recalled her shame when she realized she made friends of her enemies, and her horror, much later, that they thought her a murderer. “One of those Youkai who love me killed you. Another tried to kill me.” Taka and Gina told her that Sesshoumaru sat at her bedside holding her hand, but he left before she woke and she had yet to see him. “And he hasn't come to me since I've woken.”

“General Inutaisho had unquestionable honor and gave me the death I wanted. I'm happy to know he was able to witness peace, if only for a short time. As for the other…” He chuckled and pulled her close. “We fools who value honor and wear it like a badge frequently let it blind us. It may fall to you to cast those blinders off if he can't figure things out himself. You are strong, Kagome. Don't be afraid to forgive.”

Don't be afraid to forgive. Kagome rested her head on his shoulder. “I miss my father.”

“And I miss my daughter. Sumire…I hope you realize you are not finished with that role.”

Her eyes clouded with tears at his use of the pet name he had for her. A world of memories played out, most of them happy. Mother and father holding hands; watching her brothers practice at swords; playing in the forest; holding her newborn sister for the first time. The shade of melancholy—that they were all dead or gone—was how she knew they were true memories. They were a long goodbye to a past she had been afraid to visit. After several minutes, Kagome straightened. “Will I see you again?”

“I think not,” General Higurashi said, the sadness and affection ever-present. “You seem to be ready to dream other dreams.”

XXXXX

Kagome sat up, immediately awake and aware. The finality of her second dream gave her purpose and clarity, and she had no wish to hold on to the gauzy contentment of sleep while easing into consciousness. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the near-dark, the only light from the glow of the brazier and the small candle next to her bed. She was alone in the room.

She was not surprised that Gina, Taka, and Lady Seiobo had returned to the comfort of their own quarters. By their own admission, none of them had caught more than short snatches of sleep the night before, too caught up in grief to rest adequately. They then stayed with her all day. Kagome refused to drink any more essence of poppy and insisted on hearing all the evidence against her and the events that had transpired. Gina, Taka, and Seiobo had no choice but to cooperate, as it was the only way that Kagome agreed to rest in bed.

They showed her the false letters and told her about Akeno's testimony and death. The fact that he was killed before Sesshoumaru could talk to him spoke to Kagome's confusion about how the Youkai had been convinced of her guilt. She had been so certain that whoever Okuri's ally was, Sesshoumaru would ferret him out and see through the lies. They told her about the letters from the Council of Great Families, first the one announcing her death—the one that aroused their suspicions—and later the one warning them that she was coming to kill the General. They explained the details of General Inutaisho's condition, and she wanted to cry when she heard of the amputation of his burned arm. Sesshoumaru must have been devastated by seeing his father lying maimed and barely alive, she thought sadly. And the evidence pointed to her as the cause of their grief.

Taka related her search for Gina and scrape with the guards, and Seiobo's race to intervene in her fight with Sesshoumaru. Kagome learned of her collapse and subsequent sickness, her death. They told her about Sesshoumaru's sword and their theories why his Youki was no longer in her. She was too shocked at first to say much, overcome with the notion of having brushed death so intimately. His Youki…the thing that at one time she had been so resentful of, believing that it gave her a false feeling of belonging. The loss of it now was a vacuous hollow in her own soul. His essence, the physical sensation of him, had sustained her faith that she would return and without it, she felt adrift and undone.

Kagome asked for him and waited, but he did not come. She had awoken by noon that day, and until sunset, when she could no longer keep sleep at bay, she watched the door and listened for his footsteps. Both Gina and Seiobo tried to reassure her, saying that he was probably busy with matters concerning Okuri and kayaku and sending messages to the other Houses, and that he would be along the next day. “He is most likely trying to punish himself right now because he hadn't listened to me from the beginning,” Gina said. Kagome appreciated the light tone to her voice, but the seriousness of her eyes told her that Gina was worried about him.

She tried to be understanding, though his absence was as large and loud as her confusion. She fell asleep missing him, and cursing him that they were together again but by punishing himself he was also punishing her.

Kagome shook her head and rose from the bed. She wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, movements awkward from the stiffness of her joints. She would have welcomed assistance, but it was better that the others were gone. Gina and Taka would have tried to prevent her from spending her strength, and she did not know if she had enough in her to argue with them and successfully carry out what she was about to attempt. As she bent to pick up the candle, she grimaced at the pain that shot through her hip; it was far better that she was alone. She did not want witnesses in case of failure, and the chance of failure, given her current state, was rather daunting. But she had to try.

She touched her brother's papers thoughtfully as she reached for her crystal on the low table near the bed. She didn't tell Gina or Seiobo about what she had learned while trapped in the crumbling Higurashi manor; her need to speak to Sesshoumaru outweighed everything else. Why did you stay away? She pushed aside her fear and doubts about Sesshoumaru. The dream told her she had unfinished business to attend to before she sought out her mate.

XXXXX

Taka stifled a yawn, not yet willing to go to bed. She and Gina had spent an hour soaking in the bathhouse, and now, back in Gina's rooms, the Youkai was combing through the miko's tangled mass of hair. Despite enjoying a level of luxury she had never before experienced, she could not shake the unsettled feeling that plagued her. “Perhaps we should have checked on her one last time,” she said. Kagome, Taka knew, was a fighter, braver and more determined than anyone she had ever met. But she could not forget the stricken look on her friend's face when she realized that the entire day had passed and Sesshoumaru had not yet appeared—not to apologize, explain, check on her wellbeing, or even offer thanks for bringing kayaku to them. “Ironic, isn't it? All the dangers we faced getting here, and now that we are safe, I am most worried about her. I'm sure you saw her anguish when he did not come. You said he loves her…is he a coward?”

“No,” Gina answered without hesitation. “Not a coward. Inuyoukai bonds are strong, and among the males, the instinct to protect their mates is overpowering. Her pregnancy, deepening their bond, only amplified that urge to protect. The amount of shame and grief he must feel right now…it must be hell. When I said earlier that he was punishing himself, I meant torturing.

“But he didn't know about the child or that she was innocent of the crimes.”

“To someone like him, that is inconsequential. Excusing himself would be the easy way out.” Gina set the comb down and dug through her basket of ribbon. “He is no coward.”

Taka was quiet, busy reconciling what Kagome and Gina had told her about Inuyoukai instincts and her own beliefs about loyalty and duty. She sighed as Gina began to braid her hair. “I won't pretend to understand the significance of your mating rites or his Youki, but he had better break his silence soon, or I will personally drag him to her room.”

Gina laughed lightly. “My cousin is exceptionally stubborn. I'll help you.” She rubbed Taka's shoulders and neck, tight from the stress of the past days and the awkward position of bending over someone in bed.

“You are going to spoil me. I'm not used to such attention.”

“Mmm…how long will you stay at the manor?” Gina asked. Her hands strayed over Taka's shoulders and flirted with the hollows above her collarbones.

Taka eased into the feathery touch. “I guess I will have to send a message to the Sisterhood tomorrow and ask for orders. I hate to leave Kagome right now, but I serve at Lady Kaede's discretion. Maybe she will let me stay for a little while longer.”

Gina's fingers dipped lower and caressed the gentle swell of her chest. “I hope so.”

Taka froze, then turned, trembling. She feared both Gina's intentions and being wrong about her assumption. The beautiful Inuyoukai's face told her she was not mistaken. “Me too,” she said, no longer afraid.

XXXXX

Kagome crept out into the corridor. A guard was stationed at the far end, but he was facing away from her. Immediately she sensed General Inutaisho's Youki emanating from the next room, and she slid the door open, grateful that it made no sound. A large brazier burned in a corner, giving off enough light for her to see several candles placed around the room. She gathered them in her arms and carried them to the table near the bed, intent on keeping her gaze on the task and avoiding the General lying there. Gina told her his head injury was the worst part—worse than the amputation, worse than the arrow to his chest—and it took every bit of patience and skill she possessed to keep him from dying that night. To Kagome, General Inutaisho was still the tall, strong Youkai she had begun to think of as a father and she did not want to see him lessened, weak. Kagome used her candle to light the others and slowly the area around the bed brightened.

Kagome took a deep breath and looked at him. She was glad she had let her imagination run away from her. The truth was nothing like her most grotesque, morbid thoughts. Despite the changes in appearance, he still looked like the General, not some poor, pitiable copy.

He was thinner, of course; even a Taiyoukai could not spend weeks living on watery, honeyed rice paste and remain unaffected. She sat next to him and pulled the blanket back. The left sleeve of the robe he wore was flat and empty. Kagome bit back a strangled cry and gently eased the robe over his shoulder. The arm had been taken off several inches below the shoulder and looked to have healed well, but, even knowing what she'd find, it was not an easy thing to see. Nothing was left of the injury from the poisoned arrow but a round, flat scar high on the right side of his chest. Her hand covered it, and she remembered the look of pain and trust in his eyes when they pulled the arrow out together. She felt ashamed that she was unable to protect him after that. What if she hadn't put down the sword? Leiko would have slit EIji's throat ear to ear had she fought on, but then they killed him anyway. Is this my fault? “I'm so sorry.” The whispered apology was feeble, inadequate. She covered him again.

His face was more gaunt than before, but he was still handsome, with the high cheekbones and strong jaw that he passed on to his son. Kagome reached and brushed her fingers reverently along his cheek. His skin was warm but not feverish. He showed no obvious signs of jaundice or malnutrition. It was apparent that Gina was determined to keep him healthy in the hopes he would wake.

She turned his head to examine the most grievous injury. The hair on half of his head had been shorn, revealing ugly red lines of long-healed wounds standing prominent against the pale flesh and short white hairs. Kagome ran her fingers along the raised tracks of scar tissue and the curious, heart-breaking dents on his skull. No Ningen could have survived that type of injury, nevermind lasted long enough to have the repairs done.

Kagome almost lost her nerve, afraid that she would fail, but she had to try. She removed the bandages from her broken fingers and laid both hands on his head, covering the shattered portion. The ridges and small depressions were incongruous and alarming, but his pulse drummed steady under her fingertips and palms. There was life force there; she only needed to tap into it. She closed her eyes and let the moon's power course through her, guided by her mind's vision. She felt the wound, the scars and saw the damage beneath the skin.

She became a conduit, letting the healing energy flow to mingle with General Inutaisho's Youki. Her fears and insecurities were ignored; they were not allowed to invade her work. She stayed centered and felt swelling lessen, bone knit. The crystal around her neck glowed, borrowing the energy stored within, and Kagome kept her mind quiet and determined, focused on the place where her hands touched his scalp and the healing beneath her fingers.

Too quickly her stamina ebbed; her arms felt leaden and her hands began to numb. Pinpricks of light appeared at the far-off corners of her vision, and she had no choice but to stop. She sighed and sat back, drained. “I'm such a fool. I should have waited until I was stronger. I'm so sorry…I've failed you again.” She sagged under the weight of the defeat. After successfully carrying the burden of the peace treaty, this was too much. Kagome was tired of keeping the promise she had made so long ago, a promise that forced her to swallow tears, no matter how it choked her. She rested her head on the General's chest, and for the first time in nearly twelve years, Kagome cried.

Over a decade of tears unshed had the force of a flood, but Kagome was afraid to let more than a trickle out. A loss of control would compound her failure. The years of suffering and death lay simmering, yet buried, and were not as fresh and painful as the fear and confusion and disappointment of the day. She cried carefully, sobs kept close, until the blanket beneath her face was soaked. It was enough; when she picked herself up and wiped her eyes, she felt emptied out, but better.

She moved to blow out the candles and return to her room, but something stopped her. General Inutaisho's breathing pattern was different—louder and longer. Stronger. Deliberate, like he was working up to some goal. His face contorted briefly in pain, then he slowly blinked open his eyes.

“Kagome…” His voice was little more than a raspy shell.

“Shh,” Kagome gentled, trying to be composed and not betray her disbelief that he had woken. She smelled the contents of the ewer on the table. Plain water. She poured some in a cup and held it for him to drink.

He made another attempt at speech. “Weak.” He gasped as his throat constricted. “More water.”

Kagome alternated helping him drink and waiting patiently. After several minutes he was able to speak more comfortably. “I'm so weak. Help me sit.” She grabbed a bolster and shoved it behind his back, awkwardly helping him up. It was then that he realized that his left arm was gone. Kagome did not allow herself to wince as he squeezed her hand, waiting for the shock to settle down, covering him like a layer of fresh dust.

She watched as confusion and remembrance played across his features, communicating far more than mere words were capable. “Your arm was burned by renegade miko. It couldn't be saved.” She brought a candle close to his face and watched how his pupils reacted. Satisfied, she smiled softly. “Gina took good care of you, guarding against bed sores and atrophy.” She set the candle back on the floor. “How does your head feel? They tried to murder you by bashing in your skull, but apparently hadn't heard that it takes a good bit of effort to kill a Taiyoukai.”

“My head…has felt better.” He reached up and touched the damage. “I can only imagine how pretty I must look now,” he grimaced. “Did you use your powers? Is that why you are here alone?” She nodded. “We were attacked…after the hunt. Tell me what happened. All of it.”

She told him. About her adduction and captivity; about Okuri conspiring with the Ningen generals. He looked fierce enough to rise from his bed and take revenge, but he stayed silent while she talked. She continued her tale—her time at Kurono and Akagawa's lair and kayaku. Her escape and faked death. Her time at the Sisterhood and returning to the West to save the peace treaty. Then Kagome's voice began to break. “Okuri built his house of lies, and they believed him. I know that the evidence was strong. Okuri killed Akeno before Sesshoumaru could ascertain the truth. I saw the letter—it looked exactly like my writing.” The tears that had been held back now came out in force, and she did nothing to stop them. “He thought I did it. They all did except for Gina. I missed everyone so badly and I was so worried about you.” General Inutaisho put his arm around her and pulled her down onto his good shoulder. “I don't blame them…I don't. But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.” He stroked her hair and let her cry.

“Kagome…you're back now,” he said some minutes later when she began to calm. “You're safe.”

Kagome shook her head. “When I got here, Sesshoumaru fought me. He thought I came to finish you. He tried to kill me.” She swallowed past the bilious lump in her throat. “Maybe he did. I died.”

The General wasn't sure that he heard her correctly. He turned her face to his and saw she was completely serious. “You died?”

“Tenseiga.” Her one-word reply explained much.

“Good gods,” was all he could say. He got the sword to work.

Kagome sniffed hard. “He hasn't been to see me. Gina forced me to stay in bed, and I waited all day. She said he feels guilty because he didn't believe her that I was innocent, but I know it's more than that. I know he must have ignored his instincts to protect me…but I've already forgiven him. Wouldn't talking to me make him realize it doesn't matter?”

“It matters to him, child. He dishonored all we hold dear. He needs to forgive himself before he asks it of you. Give him time.”

Kagome nodded. “There's something else,” she said after a long pause. Crying, after years of denial, made her want to lay bare her soul and lose all her burdens. The words I found my brother's diary were warm in her mouth when the General spoke.

“You no longer have his Youki. I didn't notice at first.”

“Lady Seiobo think it died with me, but because I'm a Ningen, it wasn't part of my human soul, which was saved by Tenseiga. She said he won't abandon me because of it, but I don't understand what it means. And…I'm pregnant.”

The General's mind reeled. He tried to laugh but it only made the ache throbbing in his head worse. “I feel like I've woken to a wholly different world, Kagome. Dear girl, my son loves you. He would never leave you. Things will be made right.” He kissed the top of her head. “So I'm to be a grandfather. I was once, but I never even met him.”

Kagome felt the tears come back, sooner than she thought possible. “I have forgiveness to ask,” she blurted out. “Of you and your family.”

“You have forgiveness to ask?” he said, confused.

“On behalf of my brother.” She sat up. “When I was imprisoned at my family estate, I found my brother Daichi's personal belongings. Among them was a confession of sorts. He was there when Sumiko was killed—he was a member of the raiding party.” She swiped viciously at her eyes; now was not the time. “He did it. He was the one who killed the babe.” Then General grew stone still. Kagome bowed her head and shared the details, everything. Being swept along with the brutal brotherhood of Kurono and his officers, a drunken adventure that turned into murderous pillage, the shame and resulting madness. She had been dreading this conversation and did not know if the General deserved being burdened with the first hearing of it, but once the words began to flow she was able to stop them as much as she had been able to slow her tears. “He thought he was merciful. I know that is not an excuse, but he was not a monster like the rest of them. I can show you his diary. He wanted to atone, but only got misery and death.” He protected me, Kagome wanted to say. He wasn't bad. He wasn't cruel. Please, please forgive him. But she couldn't ask it. She could only stay silent, head bowed, afraid of the response.

“The tragic interaction of our households is unending,” he said at last. He grasped her chin and lifted her head. “We need to put an end to the tragedy. Now and always.”

Their eyes met. His were sorrowful but not condemning. “His name was Kiba,” Kagome said.

The General let out a long sigh. “Kiba. You have my gratitude for that. I now have a name to put to the tiny, blank gravestone on the hill. No gravestone should be blank. A second grandchild on the way. And because of you and the wonder you performed tonight, I can see them both. Don't look so grieved, child. You have done more for the honor and future of my family than I can possibly thank you for.”

Kagome did not want to cry again. She bit her lip and said, “I should go wake Lady Seiobo and the others.”

“No,” he said sharply. “Help me stand. I want to greet them on my feet. I'm not dead and I refuse to look it.”

Kagome, despite her tiredness, braced herself against the wall and wrapped her arms around his chest. His legs at first hesitated to cooperate, so weakened by disuse, but they both refused to give up. The going was slow and difficult with many stops and starts.

“Too bad my mate isn't here to be appalled at our antics,” the General said once he was fully upright and stayed that way for more than half a minute. Their small progress made enormous strides at restoring his good humor. “We probably look like a couple of drunks helping each other up.”

Kagome couldn't help but laugh. It felt good to laugh. “Perhaps I should sneak out past the sentry and find some wine. Gods know we deserve it.” Then she thought better. “Or maybe not. Gina is going to be livid that I did this less than a day after dying…then without telling her. If she finds empty bottles in here, she may never speak to me again, and I already know you want to stay on her good side.” Kagome winked at him.

He winked back. “I'd say we should risk it, but I fear these weeks have left me with a puppy's tolerance for strong drink.”

They continued for the rest of the night. He practiced standing and walking, resting often. She was there to support him every step, grateful when he deemed it time for a break, and answered his many questions. They were both sweaty and exhausted when the sun began to rise and they heard several sets of footfalls plodding down the corridor and muffled voices. The sounds went past the door to the room that was Kagome's. After confusion and chaos, the door burst open. Gina, Taka, Lady Seiobo, and Sesshoumaru appeared therein, all stunned speechless at what they saw. General Inutaisho had his hand on Kagome's shoulder, but he stood with his weight on his feet.

Seiobo was the first to react. She rushed in and put her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. “You…you're awake,” she cried. “So many, many times I dreamed it. This is real?”

“This is real,” he said. He had to lean on her, but remained upright.

Gina made her way in and ushered the General toward the bed, sparing a brief, exasperated, happy glance at Kagome. “Good gods uncle, how you've made me fret,” she said, her characteristic nonchalance broken by a joyous lilt in her voice.

Taka took Kagome's arm just as she began to sway and led her toward the entrance. “You look exhausted. I can't believe you tried to do that after all you've been through…actually I can. But still.”

Kagome grinned sheepishly. “It worked. I did it.”

Sesshoumaru stood in the doorway. “Kagome,” he said with a formal bow. “I was coming to see you. I owe you a greater debt than I thought. You have returned my father to me.”

Kagome wanted to throw her arms around his neck and laugh and cry, but it was enough to see the deep emotion in his eyes as he looked at her. “Go to him. You need each other. Come to me when you can. I'll wait, but I don't want to wait long.”

He nodded and tenderly touched her face. “I won't make you wait long.”

Taka circled her waist after Sesshoumaru strode past them. “You need sleep.”

Kagome let herself be led out, glancing over her shoulder at the reunion. She grinned. “And food. I'm famished. What a night.”

A secret smile swept across Taka's lips. “Indeed.”