InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Sesshoumaru's Baby ❯ Chapter One: The Understanding ( Chapter 1 )

 

 

Sesshoumaru's Baby

 

One: The Understanding

 

Sleepy in the warmth of the midday sun, Inu-Yasha opened his eyes and immediately squinted as the bright sunlight hit them, causing his pupils to dilate in order to cope. Underneath the soft but light folds of silk blanket, he stretched and yawned, wondering how long he'd been asleep, and why his side was so warm. When his eyes fell on the pile of his folded clothes a few feet away, his father's sword lying on top innocuously, he remembered. Warm breath stirred the long strands of pale hair resting against his shoulder, and idly he moved the creamy arm lying across his stomach, watching the slender fingers flex, curling and uncurling in sleep.

 

His lover wasn't awake yet, his secret lover, the one nobody knew about. The third person in his tangled mess of relationships, though this one had always been less complicated than the others. As he watched his brother's face relaxed and peaceful in sleep, childlike and content within whatever dreams stirred in his sharp mind, he felt that it was somehow worth the irritation he'd get when he finally stumbled back into camp, two miles away over the next ridge.

 

He was addicted to his brother's scent, which clung to his skin after last night like cloying perfume, a heady scent of musk and red autumn lilies mingled with pine sap and the faint salt of the sea. Inu-Yasha breathed it in for the last time that day, and made the decision to leave while they were still lovers, before they had to become enemies again. He dressed watching the tip of Sesshoumaru's tail flick back and forth like a cat's, observing the slight stir of the wind through his long hair. He wasn't going to wake up, and hopefully that was good.

 

He turned to go.

 

“Leaving so soon?”

 

Evidently not. Inu-Yasha glanced back at Sesshoumaru's face, as still as it had been moments before, now with his dark amber eyes open like rounds of topaz. He noticed the dark bruising around the base of his brother's throat, and thought back to last night. When had he inflicted that? Mind you, there were always bruises and scratches. Not nearly as gentle as when humans mate. There was a lot more urgency to this, more of the violence that usually came through their claws, just now in passion instead of in hate.

 

“What, you actually want me to stay? Haven't you got stuff to do?”

 

Sesshoumaru yawned, and sat up in one lazy movement, stretching his long arms above his head. Inu-Yasha wished he could avert his eyes, but couldn't help looking hungrily at the expanse of snowy muscled flesh this particular movement revealed - almost everything, in fact, his silken tail draped over his lap and white thighs. The morning stretching done, he reached for his clothes and began slipping them on. He caught Inu-Yasha looking.

 

“I thought you were leaving.”

 

“I was.”

 

Sesshoumaru scowled at him, and stood up. The folds of his long robe fell down over his body to just below his knees, and in that moment Inu-Yasha hated that garment more than anything in the world. Damn those clothes!

 

“Then go,” came the reply. “I have a bath to take, and like you said - things to occupy me for the rest of the day. Some of us work for a living.”

 

Inu-Yasha scowled back. “Oh yeah, honest work?”

 

“Mostly; and at least I don't rely on thieving priests to bring in the money I need to live on, Inu-Yasha. I actually developed skills with my hands to live on.” Yeah, Inu-Yasha thought. I know what one of those is.

 

“Won't your little friends be missing you?”

 

“Screw them,” Inu-Yasha said, but he was already heading off. At least there were no “half-breed” jibes this morning. Perhaps Sesshoumaru was too exhausted to think of any insults before he'd had a long soak in a hot spring or bathhouse, and cleaned himself off. Inu-Yasha reminded himself to have a quick dip in a river after slaughtering demons to hide the scent on his body. Unlike his friends, he never doubted Kirara's or Shippo's sense of smell. He didn't wish to play with fire, particularly when his two young demonic comrades knew exactly what his brother smelled like.

 

Inu-Yasha frowned, recalling Sesshoumaru's particular tiredness over the last week or so. Why was he so rundown? It wasn't like he ran around the country after Naraku on a daily basis, oh no, his brother was far more leisurely than that. The hanyou shrugged. He never really understood what his brother did when he didn't see him, either at night or in some silly fight over their father's sword. No explanations for that, despite repeated begging for explanations of any kind, plus information on his dim childhood that he didn't remember. Sesshoumaru preferred to keep his secrets.

 

Well, if he wanted to keep so quiet, let him. He'd come around. Maybe if he stayed tired, he'd slip up and say something he didn't mean to, and Inu-Yasha would have his answers.

 

 

Kagome glanced at the hanyou as he strolled into camp, soaking wet and with demon bloodstains on his sleeve still, as cocky as ever and with a tiny Shard for his efforts of “Shard-gathering” last night and most of this morning. She wasn't exactly sure where he was getting them, or why he needed to spend most of the night doing so, and he sometimes came back empty-handed and looking decidedly shifty. On those nights, she noticed, there was a suspicious lack of demons in the area, and surely she'd have sensed the Jewel Shards?

 

“What you looking at?” said Inu-Yasha gruffly, when he caught her staring. “I brought you a flipping Jewel Shard, why you looking so weird?”

 

She glared. “I'm not weird. Where have you been?”

 

He held up the Shard, and gave her the look that meant he thought she was seriously dumb. “Getting this, you idiot, what d'you think? Chucking Kikyo off a cliff? Massacring a village? Stuffing the Tetsusaiga up Naraku's ass? Actually, come to think of it, that's a damn good idea…”

 

“Maybe you've been seeing Kikyo,” said Shippo slyly.

 

Inu-Yasha bopped him on the head. Oh, he'd been seeing someone all right, but this lover was living, OK? And a darn sight more dangerous than some dead priestess. He glanced at Kagome, who was scowling into her morning Ramen (hey, he wanted some of that, he was really hungry now) and thought to himself - she just don't know there's only two people in my attentions, and Kikyo ain't one of 'em.

 

“Have you?”

 

Inu-Yasha glared at Miroku, and solemnly swore to punch the monk's lights out later. How could he possibly comment? Mr-will-you-bear-my-child-any-willing-lady? Guys like that made him sick.

 

“No. Shut your face. Both of you.”

 

“You're seeing someone,” commented Kaede, stirring a pot of stew for those of the group that didn't scarf Ramen down their throats like starving dogs. There was an odd little look on the old babaa's face. “Though I agree with you that it cannot be my sister…I would have sensed her, and seen her insects.”

 

Inu-Yasha sincerely hoped the creepy old lady couldn't read thoughts, or he was royally screwed. There were some shameful thoughts going around in his head, mainly about his brother naked or moaning in passion, and that fevered look in his eyes last night…no, stop there Inu-Yasha, don't go there or they'll definitely notice something's up.

 

But then he'd been in an odd mood this morning. No slight fooling, no gentle banter, no nothing - just that heavy tiredness, as if he was bone-weary from running his feet off all day, and the slight curtness when he spoke. His eyes had been distant and reflective - pained. Something was hurting.

 

He just wished he knew what it was.

 

When they moved out Shard-hunting later on, he found himself looking back into the woods, on the speculation that out there somewhere his brother had only just left the place where they'd spent last night, having collected his things and had that bath. But maybe it was just idle speculation.

 

Three nights later, Inu-Yasha had gone out every evening early on and returned in a mood. None of the Inu-tachi knew exactly what was up, but sensed there was something distressing the hanyou. Inu-Yasha, caught up in his own thoughts, was wondering why he hadn't seen Sesshoumaru since last time, not even a hair. Usually he'd have seen him by now, waiting on an outcropping of rock or sitting at the base of a tree, watching quietly until he was spotted.

 

Not now. He'd just disappeared.

 

“All right, Inu-Yasha!” Miroku jumped up from the fireside on the hanyou's third pacing circuit, and blocked his way. “Now, you will tell me what's going on!” He produced one of his phoney-priest o-fuda from a sleeve and brandished it at his disgruntled demon companion. “I demand to know why you're stalking around like a loony. Your pacing is driving me mad.”

 

“Shut your face,” Inu-Yasha snarled.

 

“We're your friends,” added Sango. “If we can help we will.”

 

“Don't we deserve the right to know?” said Kagome softly.

 

Inu-Yasha looked at her, wishing he could explain. For some reason, Shippo understood a little of the look in his eyes, but managed to take it on an entirely wrong course. “Hey, if something's up with Kikyo, you should see her,” he mumbled through a mouthful of Ramen. “Clear the air.”

 

“Shut UP, you little pipsqueak.”

 

“Yeah, go, driving me mad,” Miroku muttered, and slumped against a tree. “Your attitude is making me want to strangle you.”

 

“Fine!” snapped Inu-Yasha. “I will!” He stalked off into the woods, leaving his little group behind muttering about irate hanyous, bad attitudes, and `sinful dispositions' (that one from Miroku).

 

As he angrily swept scratching twigs and leaves from his face and slashed away the thorns that scraped his ankles, he muttered an angry tirade about his annoying little gang of friends. He knew he couldn't do without them. They were the lifeline thrown to him when he was drowning in loneliness. Kagome had brought light back into his life, and then drawn the others in to follow. He knew he couldn't do without Shippo to bop, Kagome to provide Ramen and a listening ear, Sango to fight with, Miroku to joke with; they were a huge part of his life now. They formed his “human” life, the human side of him that craved the companionship of others who were human.

 

Humans were creatures of fire and earth. They stayed in one place, like dirt, barely ever leaving their homes, and lived around a hearth fire to keep them warm, feed them and protect them. Demons were creatures of air and water. They were restless like the waves of the sea, moving back and forth from idea to idea, and drifted across the land like the wind, often with several residences to reside in whenever the desire overcame them.

 

The wind now brought something to Inu-Yasha's nose, and he frowned. It was a scent he'd grown to be deeply familiar with over the last couple of months. But there was something really wrong with it.

 

Trailing after it, following the more pungent scent of Sesshoumaru's little human girl as well, he came over an incline and was looking down into a hollow; the far end held a waterfall and its basin. Just below were two pallets, laid out on the ground, one occupied, one not, and a large paraphernalia of weapons and clothes and stuff, ripped out of travelling bags and spread messily across the camp in a ragged circle around the campfire. The human girl was sitting near the waterfall, humming to herself and shooting concerned looks at the occupied bed while she played with a pair of soft rag dolls. Inu-Yasha blinked at this. He'd only ever seen demon children play with toys like those.

 

Sesshoumaru was lying under the covers of the pallet, ensconsced in the silk under layer, cotton sheets, and heavy silver and black furs from the mountains to the north. Inu-Yasha could only see the top of his white head, the hair ruffled and messy, but he could tell his brother must be quite ill. But he was never ill. If anything the bastard was far too robust, never died when you wanted him too, never got sickly when you wished he would, but now that he wanted him, desired him, he suddenly got very ill indeed.

 

There was something wrong with his scent, too. Inu-Yasha slid down the slope and trotted lazily out into the clearing. The little girl looked at him, her round brown eyes fixed on his face for a moment, then her pink mouth curved in a big smile, showing her gaps in her teeth, and her chubby cheeks dimpled. She waved, and went back to her game, muttering to the dolls under her breath.

 

“Hey, Sesshoumaru.”

 

No reaction. His brother barely stirred. He could sense he was awake, his alertness, yet it was dulled, and he didn't reply. Inu-Yasha knelt down beside him and pulled the covers back a bit, enough to see his brother's face. His eyes closed, pale eyelids fluttered slightly with the crescents of long dark lashes, Sesshoumaru's face was far too pale all over, apart from flushed cheeks. He looked extremely sick.

 

“Hey, what's up with you?”

 

“…Sick…what does it look like?”

 

His voice was thin and tired. He looked as if he was bleeding out or something, and Inu-Yasha tentatively sniffed the air to check. No blood. “What's wrong? How are you sick, fever or injury or what?”

 

Sesshoumaru shook his head ever so slightly. “…Do you know a healer? Human or otherwise, I don't care.”

 

“Kaede. The old miko at the village. Why?”

 

“I think I need to see one. I have no idea what's wrong with me. Can you bring her here now?”