InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity Zero ❯ Loose Ends ( Chapter 6 )

“The Sacred Ward . . . That’s a hell of a task—if it’s even possible . . .”

Sesshoumaru didn’t reply as he passed over the ground, gliding over the land to the west—toward his castle.  It used to belong to his father, who had ruled over the Western Lands long before Sesshoumaru was born, and for a very long time, Sesshoumaru had avoided it entirely, opting instead to roam without laying claim to the castle on the cliff.  It wasn’t really until he’d revived Rin that he’d chosen to go there, to allow her to be somewhere in relative safety, even though they still traveled quite a bit.  The castle, however, was a veritable treasure trove, full of spoils his father had acquired over the span of his long life.  Sesshoumaru, however, cared for none of it.  They were simply things, and those things meant very little to him.

“Tell me why we’re going west first?  Do you know something about the Balm of Peace?”

“I know not, how long this may take,” Sesshoumaru admitted after Jester broke the silence.  “You said you have limited knowledge, at best.  There is something I must see to before I leave.”

Jester nodded slowly.

Casting a glance out of the corner of his eye without turning his head, Sesshoumaru frowned as he watched his guide.  From the time that they’d stepped through the gates of Yomi no Kuni, Jester had done little but look around, as though he were trying to take in everything at once.  He supposed that he could understand that.  Though Jester hadn’t said, it had to have been a long while since he’d been on this side of those gates.

The feel of the wind against his face, the scent of the earth and the trees, the water that lay just off to the east . . . the warmth of the sun . . . How often had Sesshoumaru felt these things, only to disregard them?

‘Maybe, but . . . don’t you wonder about Jester?  I mean, who was he?’

‘Does it matter?  It is of no concern to me.  If he can help me, then fine.  If he cannot, then I have no need of him, anyway.’

Stepping over to drop the other stone into Sesshoumaru’s hand, the youkai blinked as Jester’s filmy body solidified the moment that the stone fell into his possession with a flash of strange, hazy blue light.  Tall, certainly, the rest of his form was lost under the jet-black robe, and this time, when he faced Sesshoumaru, he could see the man’s lower jaw, but the rest of his face was hidden behind a blackened mask under the hood that was still over his head . . .

‘He looks just like any other living being, and yet, he bears no scent, no youki.’

‘What he is or is not, what he was or was not, is none of my concern.’

“Tell me, Jester . . . What do you know about the Sacred Ward?”

Jester blinked, and it seemed to take him a moment to register Sesshoumaru’s question.  “What do I know of it?  Not a lot, to be honest.  I do know, however, what they are.”

“And what are they?”

Jester shrugged.  “They’re ingredients.”

“Ingredients?”

“Ing redients for a tincture . . . It’s said that the Sacred Ward can restore a soul, rotted by the food of Yomi.  I would guess that’s the reason why Izanami-sama wants it—to restore her original beauty.”

Sesshoumaru considered that, then frowned.  “If one merely exists in the shadow form until they eat the food of Yomi, then how is it that you possessed a shape?  Have you not eaten the food?”

Jester sighed.  “No, I haven’t,” he agreed.  “It’s more difficult to ignore it in the beginning.  It gets easier over time, but the hunger never truly goes away.  It’s the only actual feeling that you have, this gnawing in the pit of you, and when you have no other senses to appease, then the hunger becomes a driving force within.  However, if you manage to avoid eating, there’s a good chance that Izanami-sama will show you favor.”

“And that’s how you became one of her guards?”

“That . . . and she’s my great-great-great grandmother.”

“You’re related to her?”

Jester chuckled.  “I didn’t know this until after I died, but it stands to reason.  Youkai  . . . humans . . . We all descended from the kami.  It just so happens that my bloodline was a little closer and less convoluted than others.  Many are descended from Izanagi, but fewer can claim lineage that can be traced back to Izanami.  My great-great grandfather was, in fact, the first of his kind.  Izanagi later begot a daughter, but she was not Izanami’s, and she was born to be my great-great grandfather’s mate—at least, that’s how the story goes.”

They traveled a while longer as the silence settled once again, but it was a comfortable kind of stillness.

It was strange, really.  Sesshoumaru, by nature, did not trust many, preferred to do things on his own if possible.  It was an independence that he’d forged over the years.  He wasn’t not in the habit of being comfortable around anyone.  Even with Jaken and Rin, there was a level of separation: a defined role.  He was their protector, their lord.

So, why was it that Jester’s presence did not bother him?

Jester sighed.  “I have a question, and I might as well get it out of the way or suffer the preoccupation of the unknown.”

Sesshoumaru said nothing, but he shot Jester a quick glance, which was as close to an agreement as he was inclined to give.

Jester intercepted the look and interpreted it to mean that he could proceed.  “What happened to your arm?  How’d you lose it?”

“Does it matter?”

“Well, you’re lord of the Western Lands, aren’t you?  Which means you’re strong—possibly one of the strongest youkai in the realm.  After all, if you’re able to hold a territory that vast, then it attests to your strength.  That means my question is valid.”

“My . . . half-brother cut it off,” he said, unsure exactly why he was answering the question when he really hadn’t intended to do any such thing.  “It makes no difference.   I am as powerful without it as I was with it.”

Jester nodded slowly.  “You have a sibling—a brother.  I take it from what you said that you do not get along?”

“Half-brother . . . and it’s a moot point,” Sesshoumaru replied.  “He chose his path, and I’ve chosen mine.”

“Ah, the complicated relationship between siblings,” Jester mused thoughtfully.  “Well, I didn’t have any in life, but I hear that it’s complicated, anyway . . .”

Stopping abruptly, Sesshoumaru slowly shifted his gaze around.  Deep, they were, into his territory—land that he knew as well as he knew his own heartbeat—and the feel of something, malignant and foul, was rife in the air.

Jester lit on the ground beside him.  “It’s an oni,” he concluded after a moment.  “I can sense his vulgar intention.”

The creak and rattle in the trees just ahead drew Sesshoumaru forward.  “You can sense intent?”

“So it would seem,” he said.  “Show me, Sesshoumaru . . . Show me your strength.”

The huge oni, almost as tall as the trees, lumbered forward, grunting, growling . . . It was from the lower lands, a beast born in the fields and hills.  Tough, leathery skin, akin to armor—and this kind tended to use their minds a little more than their rock or stone counterparts that were more prevalent toward the mountains.  “Sess . . . homaru . . .” he rumbled, his voice akin to the roll of thunder, “Sesshoumaru . . .”

“Out of my way,” Sesshoumaru commanded without stopping.  “This is my domain.”

“It is nice here.  I want it,” the oni stated.

“You had your warning,” Sesshoumaru said, drawing Tokijin and unleashing the bright blue flash of the Souryuha without breaking his stride.  The lightning shot out, engulfing the oni in the jagged streaks of blinding light.  The beast shrieked as he exploded in a strobe of white light and a blast of wind.

“Not bad,” Jester remarked as the wind died down behind them.  He seemed to be staring at Sesshoumaru—or rather, at Tokijin—and he snorted indelicately.  “That sword . . . feels ominous.”

“It should,” Sesshoumaru replied.  “It was forged from the fangs that broke my father’s fabled sword, Tetsusaiga.”

“Broke it?”

“Goshinki was able to break a sword as powerful as that.  It suits my purposes.”

Jester chuckled.  “I suppose it does,” he mused.  “I suppose it does . . .”

“Sesshoumaru-sama!  You’ve returned!”

Sesshoumaru didn’t smile as he stepped into the garden behind the castle, but his eyes brightened to a lighter gold as he watched the child skitter across the grass, a handful of flowers clutched tightly against her chest.  “Rin, I trust you’ve behaved yourself?”

The girl beamed up at him, twirling around on her tiny feet.  He’d noticed it before, hadn’t he?  Rin was one of those creatures that simply could not be still, could not hide her happiness, her absolute joy.  “Yes, milord!  I’ve been tending Ah-Uhn, and Jaken-sama has been teaching me how to write my name!”

“Sesshoumaru-sama!  Sesshomaru-sama!” With a peal of giddy laughter, the green imp dashed over to them.  “I’m so glad that you’ve finally returned!  Did you manage to find the Heart of Kiriyama?”

“I did.  Now, come.”

The two hurried after him when he turned on his heel and started away.  In truth, he’d been considering, just what to do with them, and he’d made a decision, though he was sure that Jaken would likely object on principle.

“Are we going to travel again?” Rin asked, darting over to Ah-Uhn to clamor atop the dragon familiar.

“I am taking you to the human village for a time,” Sesshoumaru replied, stepping off the ground.  The dragon followed, but Jaken, who hadn’t managed to get up on the beast, shrieked and ran after them.  Without a second thought, Sesshoumaru caught Jaken with the long tail of the Mokomoko-sama and tossed him onto Ah-Uhn’s back with Rin.

“The . . . human village?” Rin echoed, the trepidation she tried to hide, coloring her voice.  The girl had harbored a fear of humans ever since she had witnessed her family being murdered by thieves, and maybe that was the reason she’d tried so hard to reach out to Sesshoumaru so long ago, when she’d stumbled across him, deep in the forest after a particularly tough battle with InuYasha . . .

“I’ll come for you when I finish what I have to do,” he told her.

“And . . . And me, milord?  Surely I—"

“You will be watching over Rin, Jaken,” Sesshoumaru replied.

“But, milord!  This Jaken—”

The imp’s words died on his tongue when Sesshoumaru turned his head just enough to narrow his eyes on him.

Jaken heaved a fitful sigh.  “Aye, milord . . .”

“You . . . You keep a human pet?” Jester remarked, an understated but present incredulity in his tone.

“She is not a pet,” Sesshoumaru corrected.

“Then is she your child?”

“Surely you can tell that she is entirely human,” Sesshoumaru remarked rather dryly.

Jester nodded.  “Well, I thought so.  The nose on this body I’m borrowing isn’t nearly as keen as the one I had in life . . . She is simply under your care, then.  I understand.  Funny, though.  You don’t strike me as the type to indulge any humans, much less a child.”

“Body you’re borrowing . . .?”

Jester shrugged.  “I wouldn’t be of much assistance if I were just a spirit, now would I?  Izanami-sama felt it wise to give me form, though it isn’t quite the same as it was when I was living.  Oh, it doesn’t belong to anyone else, if that was what you were wondering.”

“Who were you in life?”

“I am not at liberty to say,” he admitted.  “Anyway, it’s of no real consequence.  Best we just find the Sacred Ward and get back.  Time is of the essence.  If Kaze no Kagura eats of the food of Yomi, then . . .”

Sesshoumaru didn’t respond to that.  There really wasn’t anything to say.  He wasn’t the type to keep a human in any capacity; Jester was right.  Even now, he couldn’t rightfully say why he’d saved Rin after a pack of wolf-youkai had killed her.  It was simpler to say that Tenseiga willed it to be so, but . . .

In any case, leaving Rin and Jaken in the care of the humans—InuYasha’s allies—was reasonable, given that he had no idea, just how long this search for the Sacred Ward would take.  Rin, he’d noticed, was all right around them, and, provided that they didn’t drag her out into dangerous situations, they’d be able to adequately protect her with Jaken’s assistance.

“Milord, if I might be so bold as to ask . . . who is this shifty fellow?” Jaken called from his spot upon Ah-Uhn’s back.

“His name is Jester.  That’s all you need to know,” Sesshoumaru replied when the imp nudged the dragon faster.

Rin was busy, twisting around, trying to look past Sesshoumaru to stare at Jester.

“And you are sure that he is to be trusted?”

That earned Jaken a scathing side-eye, and the imp hurriedly waved his hands.  “Not that I would ever question your judgement,” he blurted, bowing fast and often.  “Forgive me, milord!  A thousand apologies!”

“Hello,” Rin piped up, having decided that, since Sesshoumaru was all right with Jester, that she was, as well.  “I’m Rin.  Jester’s a funny name, don’t you think?  What does it mean?”

Jester looked surprised but glanced past Sesshoumaru at the child.  “I . . . I suppose it is,” he agreed slowly.  “It . . . It suits my purposes, though.”

Rin looked thoughtful, her tiny mouth curving downward at the corners, as though she were considering what he’d said.  “Then . . . should I call you Jester-sama?”

Jester choked out a curt laugh.  “Just Jester is fine, Rin.”

She thought that over, too, and then, she smiled.  “Okay!  And we’ll be friends, won’t we?”

“He won’t be around very long, Rin,” Sesshoumaru pointed out.

The child looked slightly disappointed by that, but she recovered quickly enough.

“So . . . If she’s not a pet or your child—or a snack that you’re keeping for later, I daresay—why does she travel under your care?” Jester asked.

Sesshoumaru didn’t answer right away.  In the end, though, he shrugged.  “She chose to.  That is all.”

Suddenly, Jester didn’t look like he was willing to accept that answer at face-value, but he did let the subject drop.  “She seems happy enough, though you don’t strike me as the kind to know much when it comes to raising a human child.”

“She is fine,” he replied.

Jester nodded slowly, and he finally fell silent.

“So, you want us to keep her for you—that’s what you’re saying.”

Eyeing the houshi with a slow stare, Sesshoumaru gave a small nod.  “For a time,” he replied.  “Will it be a problem?”

“No, not at all,” Miroku said, quickly holding up a hand.  “However, we were getting ready to travel to the taijiya village.  Sango wishes to settle there, but . . . But you’ve traveled with Rin all this time.  Why do you want us to take her now?”

He sounded more curious than anything.  Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes.  “I have something I must do,” he said.  “It could prove to be dangerous for her—and there are things that the taijiya might well be better adept at teaching her.”

A look of general understanding surfaced on the monk’s face, and he slowly nodded.  “Say no more.  I think I understand.  She’ll be just fine with us.  We’ll protect her with our lives.”

“See that you do,” Sesshoumaru replied.  He started to turn away, but Miroku’s voice stopped him.

“If you don’t mind my asking, who is that peculiar fellow you’ve got with you?”

Following the direction of Miroku’s gaze, only to spot Jester, kneeling down, talking in hushed tones to some of the village’s children, Sesshoumaru slowly blinked.  “He is my guide.”

The houshi looked like he still had questions.  Sesshoumaru turned away, scanned the area for Rin, and called her over before the man grew brazen enough to ask anything else.  “Rin!”

The girl dashed over to him, beaming up at him.  “Are you leaving now, Sesshoumaru-sama?”

“I am,” he told her.  “I will come for you when I’ve completed my task.”

“And I will learn how to write my name while you’re away,” she declared.  “I’ve almost got it now!  By the time you return, I’ll be able to do it for real!”

“Behave yourself, Rin,” he told her.  “Jaken will stay with you.”

She nodded happily.

He watched as she carted around, dashed off to inspect the top that the kitsune was toying with.  He observed her for another long moment before pivoting on his heel and starting away without another word.

He was already well beyond the village by the time Jester caught up with him.  Slowing to a walk beside Sesshoumaru, Jester shook his head, though he seemed amused otherwise.  “You’re really abrupt, aren’t you?” he mused, though the question really didn’t sound like a question, at all.

Sesshoumaru said nothing as the two of them stepped into the forest—InuYasha’s Forest.  It felt somehow empty, didn’t it?  As though it realized that it’s protector was gone . . . There was a subtle sadness, the likes of which he hadn’t felt in such a long time, not since the passing of his esteemed father.  That was different, though—slightly, anyway.  Back then, Musashi had fallen under his jurisdiction as well as the Western Realm.  He was in the process of claiming it when he’d met her—Izayoi.  Sesshoumaru had helped his father take the lands, and, once he’d defeated the other youkai in the area that could have been considered strong enough to rival him, he’d passed the Western Lands over to Sesshoumaru for the most part.  In those days, it was rare to find him, roaming through the forests or idling in the fields.  When he’d died . . .

When he had died, Sesshoumaru had overseen the region, but he laid no claim to it.  To him, it was tainted land, and he had wanted no part of it.  Somewhere in his mind, Musashi had become synonymous with his father’s death—had come to signify his father’s foolishness, his downfall . . . Sesshoumaru needed no such curse, and he carved it out of the whole like a bit of rotting and malignant flesh and had discarded it, allowing it to be passed instead onto the infant, InuYasha . . . No, he’d only done enough to ensure that it remained for InuYasha, who had never realized just what Sesshoumaru had done—not that Sesshoumaru really cared.  As ignorant as he was, InuYasha had never even understood that Musashi was his birthright, anyway.

Back then, it seemed as though the whole of the countryside knew and mourned his father’s passing.  It was in the air, in the land, even in the waters as they flowed, and as the land slowly recovered, so, too, did Sesshoumaru . . .

‘That’s not really true, you know.  You still harbor that old resentment, that old hostility, toward your father.’

‘I do not,’ he argued almost philosophically.  ‘There is nothing to resent.  Chichiue . . . He made his choices.  It was all that there ever was.’

‘Yet, you go out of your way to do everything that he would never have done.  That was your vow, wasn’t it?  That you would never live a senseless life like he did.’

‘No, I vowed that I would never died a senseless death like he did,’ Sesshoumaru corrected tightly.  ‘And I will not.’

His youkai-voice sighed.

It was the truth, as far as Sesshoumaru could see.  After all, his father had sought power, surely, but he’d done so in order to create a world where they could live in peace—those were his words.  He wished to protect what he called ‘the weak’—those who were too weak to stand on their own.  It was something Sesshoumaru had never truly understood.  What good was might if he was forced to use his power in order to champion those who were far too inept to do so themselves?

No, to stand tall was to be stronger than all others.  He did not want or need to be burdened with those who could not fend for themselves.  If they died, that was none of his concern.  It only meant that they were too weak to hold their own.  As for himself?

‘That will never be an issue.  Pitiful . . . There is no room for those creatures.  They’re better off dead.’

“The expression on your face is about as foreboding a look as I have ever seen, Sesshoumaru.”

Blinking away the lingering thoughts, Sesshoumaru kept moving.  “Blackened Tears to the south.  What do you know of it?” he demanded, ignoring Jester’s musings.

Jester slowly shook his head but said nothing about the abrupt change in topics.  “In truth, I don’t know much.  I vaguely remember hearing before, though, that the tears are tricky to obtain—not impossible, but not easy.  I also seem to recall something about a swamp and a creature that wakes at midnight . . .”

“A creature that wakes at midnight . . .” Sesshoumaru repeated, considering Jester’s words.  It wasn’t much to go on and sounded like the stuff of some warped child’s tale.  “A guardian?”

“Could be.”

“Then it can be defeated,” he concluded.

Jester sighed but said nothing as the two set off toward the south.