InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity Zero ❯ Bulls and Flowers ( Chapter 12 )

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

“Kami ’s bones, it’s ho-o-o-ot . . .”

Sesshoumaru said nothing as the trio kept walking, moving through the mountain pass where the cooling breeze simply did not reach between the hills and the steep rises, the thick trees that blocked out the hottest rays of sunshine.  That might have been fine, too, except that the humidity in this area was ridiculous, as well.  He felt it, of course, but whining about it really wouldn’t do any good.  Apparently, however, Jester had yet to figure that out . . .

“It’s so damn hot, my body parts are starting to stick together . . .” Jester went on with a melodramatic sigh.  “Hey, Sesshoumaru . . .”

Sesshoumaru didn’t pause in his gait, nor did he turn to look at his traveling companion.  “No, Jester,” he stated flatly.

“But—”

“I’m not pulling your . . . body parts . . . apart.”

The entity heaved a sigh.  “You know—”

“If you keep talking,” Sesshoumaru said in a deceptively mild tone, “I’ll kill you.”

Jester stopped short, stared at Sesshoumaru, who kept walking.  “I think you meant that,” he muttered, half-to-himself.

“I did.  I do.”

“But if you killed Jester-sama for simply needing assistance, then—”

“Jester-sama?” Sesshoumaru echoed, glancing over his shoulder at the light-youkai.  “Sama?”

Jester grinned at him.  “She recognizes greatness when she sees it,” he said.

Narrowing his gaze on the entity, Sesshoumaru said nothing else as he snapped his mouth closed and resumed his trek once more.

He’d decided that, since they were venturing close, they might as well stop in to see Totosai.  After all, Myouga had a habit of sticking around the old swordsmith, and Sesshoumaru rather thought that maybe the flea might know something about the Sacred Ward.  He also wanted to see if he couldn’t get Totosai to agree to forge some kind of weapon for Jester since the entity didn’t have any kind of defense.  He supposed that the odds were roughly fifty-fifty that he’d gain Totosai’s compliance.  Totosai might not care for him, but Jester was a lot better at being friendly overall, so maybe . . .

‘So, you do care about Jester.’

‘If his body were to be destroyed, he’d end up back in Yomi, now wouldn’t he?  I still need his assistance, such as it is.  It’s better than nothing.’

‘You know, don’t you?  It’s all right to be concerned about someone else.’

‘No, it’s not.  It’s really not.  That is weakness, and weakness is always exploited.  Besides, Jester is simply annoying, at best.  If I didn’t require his knowledge—’

‘Except that’s just an excuse, too.  You realize, don’t you?  He doesn’t know much more about the Sacred Ward than you do.’

‘Or he simply hasn’t told me everything he knows yet.  That’s the feeling I have.’

‘But what would he have to gain in not telling you everything he knows?’

‘I don’t know.  It doesn’t matter.’

His youkai-voice didn’t respond to that, and it was just as well.  Truthfully, it was strange.  As annoying as the entity could be, Sesshoumaru really did have to admit, at least, to himself, that he didn’t actually mind having Jester around.  It was odd, wasn’t it?  Having someone around who wasn’t afraid of him, or reliant upon him, or irking him to the point that he wouldn’t mind, ridding the world of the general pest, who picked fights with him, just by donning the hostility and bluntly obtuse attitudes that were the earmark of the baka’s general existence . . .

‘InuYasha doesn’t annoy you nearly as much as you pretend he does, hanyou or not.  Like it or not, you know, too, that InuYasha grew up in the best way that he possibly could, given the situation.  That he survived at all should be miracle enough, but . . . But the truth is that he never really has annoyed you—not like you want to believe.  What annoyed you was simply the reminder that he invariably dealt you every time you saw him.’

Sesshoumaru chose to ignore that, too.  After all, there really wasn’t anything to say about it.

‘He reminds you of the things that never should have happened, doesn’t he?  That your father and your mother weren’t true mates.  If they were—’

‘Drop it,’ he cut in coldly.  ‘None of that matters.  Let it alone.’

‘If you say so, but you know, don’t you?  As much as you hate to consider such things, at some point in your life, you’re going to have to.  Otherwise, you’ll stop progressing, and then, you’ll die.’

‘Die?  Kono Sesshoumaru?’

‘In a manner of speaking, yes.  To live is to grow, isn’t it?  Even if you’ve finished growing physically, you still grow mentally.  Everything you learn in life is there, and even when you don’t realize it, you add to that growth every day.  If you stop, then you stagnate, and you cannot move forward.  Do not fool yourself into believing that you will be the same in a thousand years as you are now, today.’

He said nothing to that, either.

Instead, he quickened his pace and set himself to ignore the annoying sound of his youkai-voice.


“Where is Jester?”

Glancing up from the dancing light of the Heart of Kiriyama in her palm, Izanami no Mikoto casually glanced at the shadoe that strode into the receiving chamber with an air of impatience around his dusky form.  “Surely you do not come before me without so much as a formality?” she intoned, her lyrical voice, taking on a hint of censure.

“My apologies, Izanami-sama,” he quickly corrected himself, offering her a low bow that he held for a long moment before he straightened up again.

She nodded once, allowing the oversight to pass.  “As for Jester’s whereabouts, suffice it to say that he is on an errand for me.”

“An errand?” he echoed, his irritation rising once more.  She could sense his impatience and was mildly surprised.  This one in particular tended to be much more controlled than others, including Jester.  Suddenly, though, he lifted a shadowy hand, pointed at the Heart of Kiriyama.  “That’s . . .”

“Hmm, it is,” she agreed easily enough.He stared at it for several moments, as though transfixed, which wasn’t entirely unexpected, given that something like the Heart of Kiriyama was such a huge thing in a place like this.  “Will you . . . break it . . .?”

She frowned at the question.  True, she could break it—release the mist inside.  It would linger here in her chambers, lending another dimension to the staid and stagnant environment, however . . . However, she wasn’t sure that it was something she wanted, either, given that she possessed no real body, no real form, and therefore could not feel the moisture on her skin, would never be able to savor it on that level . . . It might well be more torment on her soul that she simply couldn’t endure.  “I will not,” she replied at length, lifting the glowing orb, as though presenting it to the shadoe to emphasize her claim.  “This is enough.”

He nodded, though his stance indicated his disagreement with her on the matter.  He was smart enough not to give voice to it.  “About Jester . . . How long am I expected to do his job as well as my own?”

“For as long as I require him elsewhere,” she replied evenly.  “Your impatience is showing yet again.”

“It’s not impatience.  I simply wanted to know how long I was being expected to pick up the slack, as it were.”

“It isn’t so bad,” she corrected him.  “That is to say, Jester’s tasks shouldn’t interfere with your own.”

The shadoe grunted.  “But to send Jester on an important errand?  The fool is far too impetuous, far too volatile.  To trust him anywhere—”

She cut him off, her effigy stilling, her tone steeling in a most uncharacteristic sort of way.  “Is it really your place to question me?”

He sighed.  “My apologies, Izanami-sama.  I . . . I didn’t mean to question your judgement.”

She laughed softly, but let it slide.  “While it is true that you were once a great and mighty tai-youkai in life, it avails you nothing here.  The position you occupy now is because I allow it to be so.”

“Of course, Izanami-sama,” he agreed quickly, though she didn’t miss the hint of irritation in his overall tone and demeanor.

“Anyway, I trust that you can see to Jester’s normal tasks as well as your own well enough,” she went on, opting instead to ignore his general displeasure.  “When he returns to Yomi—”

“You . . .?  You sent him out of Yomi?”

“I did.  It was necessary.”

“But that . . . That isn’t normally allowed.”

“And it is my choice as to whether or not I bend the rules, is it not?”

He didn’t seem like he was ready to accede to her logic.  “And should he become tainted?  You were the one who told me the risks of sending a soul out of Yomi on a whim.  If he cannot re-assimilate when he returns . . .”

“It was a calculated risk, but you underestimate Jester,” she said.  “Besides, he was the best choice for this particular task.”

“And what task is it?”

Sparing a moment to stare at the shadoe, she nodded just once.  “If you must know, he is helping Sesshoumaru search for the Sacred Ward.”

“Sess . . . Sesshoumaru . . .?”

She nodded slowly.  “Yes, Sesshoumaru.”

“Izanami-sama—”

She shook her head. “No . . . It’s because of your own feelings toward Sesshoumaru that I chose not to send you. You . . . You're far too close. You understand that, don’t you?”

“And Jester is not?” he challenged faster than he could stop himself.

Izanami uttered a terse little sound, more of a breath than an actual word.  Instantly, the shadoe recoiled.  “Be careful,” she warned quietly before stating once more, “He was the best choice.”

He didn’t seem as though he wanted to concede any such thing, but he finally nodded.  “As . . . As you wish, Izanami-sama.  I’ll get back to my tasks, then.”

She watched him go without another word, but it was only after his presence in her domain had faded that she slowly stood, swept off of the dais and across the floor, stopping at the edge of the polished wooden platform as she stared up at the perfect moon.  It was stunning, that moon—the kind of visage that was only witnessed once or twice in a lifetime on earth.  Here, everything was unnaturally perfect, controlled—everything except for him, anyway . . . She could understand his irritation, even his jealousy.  After all, it was natural enough, given the shadoe’s relationship to Sesshoumaru in life, and that Jester was also given the chance to leave Yomi, even if it was only for a little while . . .?

Yet everything rode upon it, this quest.  “Everything . . .” she murmured into the uncanny stillness.

There was no answer in the night.


The clank of the hammer hitting metal rang out long before Sesshoumaru stepped over to the opening in the skull on the side of the volcanic mountain.

It hadn’t taken long to reach the place—not for him, anyway.  Even so, Jester had to carry Aoizoku part way when the path had become more treacherous.  She couldn’t hover, as Sesshoumaru and Jester could, but she hadn’t complained at all and had actually seemed rather fascinated by the fissures of lava that streaked the landscape in little, thin streams.

“Totosai,” he called, smelling the aged blacksmith long before he saw him.  Stopping at the edge of the gaping maw of the huge skull that Totosai called home, he narrowed his eyes as they adjusted to the dimmed light within.

“Oh, Sesshoumaru . . . it’s you . . .” he said as the sound of the hammer, stilled abruptly.  “What brings you here?”

“I need a weapon,” Sesshoumaru replied, striding into the makeshift hut.

“I told you, I wasn’t going to forge one for you,” Totosai insisted, flicking a gnarled old hand toward Sesshoumaru’s waist.  “Isn’t that why you went and had Kaijinbo forge that one that’s almost as evil as you?”

“It isn’t for me,” he reiterated after sparing a bare moment to very nearly smile, blinking slowly as Totosai shifted his bulbous eyes around in a decidedly nervous fashion.

“Then why ever would you want one?” Totosai blurted.

Reminding himself that he didn’t dare clout the swordsmith over the head, Sesshoumaru settled for narrowing his glare at Totosai, instead.  “I am traveling with an entity that has no weapon,” he explained curtly, hating that he had to explain himself, but knowing that the journey would only be that much more difficult if Jester continued, unarmed.

“I don’t see anyone with you—just you—not even your imp,” Totosai remarked, jamming his arms together under the sleeves of his striped kimono.  “Surely you don’t want a weapon for that little human girl, do you?  That would seem a little odd, even for you . . .”

“Don’t make me strike you, Totosai,” Sesshoumaru warned.  “Jester, I—” Cutting himself off as he turned his head, only to realize that Jester wasn’t behind him, he started to scowl, but that scowl shifted into more of an expression of suspicion as the lowing of Totosai’s bull, Momo, rang out.  “Damn . . .”

Pivoting on his heel, he strode out of the hut, only to shake his head when he spotted the fool, standing near the three-eyed, flying bull, but it was the look on Jester’s face—a mix of foreboding and absolute interest—that drew the dog-youkai forward.  “No,” he stated flatly, loudly enough to gain both Jester as well as Aoizoku’s attention.

“What?” Jester said.

Sesshoumaru stifled the urge to snort.  “You cannot eat that,” he said.

“. . . He looks really tasty, though . . .”

“He is Totosai’s travel companion,” Sesshoumaru explained, wondering in the back of his mind, just why he would have to explain such a thing, at all.  “Now, come on.”

“Travel companion?  Sounds a bit iffy, if you ask me . . .”

“Jester . . .” Sesshoumaru muttered in a warning growl.

“He has a point, Sesshoumaru-sama.  I mean, that’s a lot of meat . . .” Aoizoku remarked.

Sesshoumaru didn’t respond to that, but he did glower at Jester.

Jester, true to form, grinned.  “I didn’t put her up to that,” he said.

“Come.  And don’t say anything to Totosai about eating his bull or he won’t forge a weapon for you.”

“. . . Do I want him to do that?” Jester challenged mildly.

“. . . Yes, you do.”

“. . . Did he forge your weapons?”

Grinding his teeth together for a moment, Sesshoumaru let out a deep breath—slowly.  “One of them,” he said, leading the way into the skull dwelling.  “Totosai, this is Jester—and Aoizoku.  Jester, this is Totosai.  He is the one in need of a weapon.”

“A weapon?  You want a weapon?”

“Totosai . . .” Sesshoumaru began in a definite warning tone.

“We’ve been over this.  I don’t like you.  You’re scary.  And evil.  And the devil-incarnate,” Totosai went on.

This time, Sesshoumaru didn’t stop to consider the consequences as he balled-up his fist and thumped the swordsmith in the head.

“Ow!  See?” Totosai whined, grasping his head between his spindly fingers.

“It’s for him,” Sesshoumaru gritted out, jerking his head in Jester’s direction.

“Tell me, old man, how close are you to that bull in the yard?”

“Jester—” Sesshoumaru warned.

“Can’t blame me for trying,” Jester muttered.

“Momo?” Totosai said, blinking in confusion as he slowly rubbed at the knot forming on his head.  “Why do you ask?”

Sesshoumaru stifled the urge to sigh.  “No reason, Totosai.  Now, about a weapon for him . . .?”

“Well, I . . .” the old swordsmith began, only to frown thoughtfully as he stared at Jester.  “What kind of weapon are you looking for?”

Jester shrugged, apparently giving up on the idea of eating Totosai’s bull, at least, for the moment.  “I don’t really think I need a weapon,” he said.

“Yes, he does,” Sesshoumaru muttered.  Then, he narrowed his gaze as he slowly turned his head to look at the entity.  “You know how to fight, do you not?”

“I prefer the intellectual approach,” Jester quipped.

“Is that a, ‘no’, then?”

Jester sighed, letting his careless demeanor fall away.   “I know how to fight, yes,” he replied.  “I’d prefer not to, though, if it’s all the same to you.”

For some reason, Sesshoumaru felt that there was more to the answer than Jester was willing to give voice.  He didn’t know why he thought so, but he had the feeling, too, that the entity might well be better at it than he was willing to allow.  Perhaps it was part and parcel with his being allowed back, Sesshoumaru didn’t know.  “Fighting is unpredictable,” he said instead.  “You need a weapon.”

“You mean, you can’t protect me?”

Sesshoumaru grunted.  “I shouldn’t have to protect you.”

Jester gestured at Sesshoumaru as he stared at Totosai and gave a curt shrug.  “Well, there you have it.”

A certain understanding—recognition?—flashed over Totosai’s face, and he shook his head.  “I thought you were dead!” he suddenly blurted.

Jester chuckled.  “I still am,” he said, just before lifting his extended index finger to his lips in a shushing sort of motion.  “I’m just borrowing this body while I help him gather the Sacred Ward.”

“The Sacred Ward?” Totosai echoed, almost incredulously.  “But that’s impossible, even for him!  Especially for him!”

“What do you know of it, Totosai?” Sesshoumaru demanded, taking a menacing step toward Totosai.

“Nothing!  Nothing!  I just mean that gathering those things requires a skill set that you don’t have—things like compassion, general decency in your heart of darkness, Oh Great Lord of Evil.  That’s all . . .”

“Great Lord of Evil, Sesshoumaru?  He’s talking about you?  Really?” Jester muttered, leaning toward Sesshoumaru and lowering his voice just a touch.

“If you weren’t already dead, Jester,” he warned.

Jester chuckled, smashing his palms together and making a couple mocking bows.  “Warii warii.”

Ignoring the entity’s rather crude apology, Sesshoumaru continued to eye the blacksmith.  “Do you know something useful about the Sacred Ward?”

Totosai blinked a few times, a telling sense of blankness, filtering into his gaze.  “The Sacred Ward?  Oh, oh yes . . . the Sacred Ward . . .”

Sesshoumaru had to wonder if the aged youkai might have been hit over the head a few too many times over the years.  Waiting for him to go on, somehow, he wasn’t really surprised when Totosai remained silent.  “What do you know, Totosai?”

“Well, for starters, your . . . your uncle tried to gather those things long ago . . . Wanted me to use them to forge a powerful sword that could rival your father’s Tetsusaiga,” he finally said.  “That’s how he died, you know.”

Sesshoumaru considered that for a long moment.  “Hahaue’s brother?”

Totosai nodded, casting Jester a quick glance before meeting Sesshoumaru’s gaze once more.  “That’s the one.  Died, trying to retrieve the one in the north.  Fool of a dog tried to force his way through the barrier.”

Jester snorted indelicately but said nothing.

Sesshoumaru didn’t miss the sound, but he chose not to remark upon it.  “I see.  Since you already seem to be familiar with Jester, then I shall presume that you will fashion him a weapon?”

Totosai let out a deep breath as he stared at Jester with a thoughtful frown.  “Well, I could . . .” he mused, “but . . .”

“Maybe I should have something appropriate for my level of dead-ness,” Jester went on, his tone taking on a philosophical lilt.

“Level of dead-ness?” Sesshoumaru echoed, pinning Jester with a very dry look.

“Hmm,” Totosai said, scratching his chin slowly.  “Well, can you give me a day or two?  I’ll see what I can do . . .”