InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Seven Feudal Fairy Tales ❯ A Name ( Chapter 37 )

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and other associated companies.

 

 

Chapter Thirty-Seven: A Name

 

 

With delicate webs of white foam astride them, the placid, aquamarine waves rose eagerly, bathing the rock strewn shore in the rush of its caress and the soft whisper of its froth. After reaching as far as their vanishing momentum would allow them, they withdrew, pulled back with equal fervor by the forever enduring embrace of the ocean. Their return was not without protest, as the reluctant currents evenly combed the smooth layer of sand, removing any imperfections with its steady drag. Around the monuments of volcanic rock it labored in its resistance, keenly finding the firm stance of the tai youkai as it departed. Beneath his feet it burrowed, teasing away the foundation of sand he stood upon. His footing though, like the rest of him did not waver as he watched the older woman with the poised spear on the rock before him.

 

Strangers in appearance, they remained in the rumbling silence of the beach, their unblinking eyes steadily fixed on the other. The woman's spear which had been leveled on the pewter fish undulating just beneath the waves had since risen, its neat point set unswervingly in the direction of the stripped demon's chest. He though was not the only one exposed as she towered over him on her rock. Darkly tanned with silver-streaked, raven hair, she was clothed in little more than a woven belt tied securely at her waist and a satchel loitering at the curve of her hip, its long strap slung securely over her opposing shoulder. The marring lines of scars carved the golden skin of her toned body, speaking of her innumerable lessons in the wilds of the island as did the lean, trained muscles of her distinctly womanly figure.

 

The youkai lord's sight did not linger on the old wounds that clothed her nudity, but drifted resolutely to her face and the mystery that lingered there. Beneath the lines of age and the fierceness of her glare was a familiarity he could not quite place. Hidden away in her sepia eyes it laid, lost to the agonizing years of solitude and survival. Then he spied it or her to be exact. The idealistic, young miko he had left on the shore but a few hours ago. In his realization, Sesshoumaru's mouth set into a frown. Oto-hime had been right and thirty-five years had come to pass while he had been away underneath the sea. Time was not favorable to creatures as brief in life as humans. Demons and gods feel the flow differently. They float on the surface of it like flotsam, but those of the mortal coil sink and are slowly dissolved by the decay of its encompassing depths.

 

The cold logic of his mind strayed from the tug of sympathy that the plight of her humanly nature invited. He was not responsible for her predicament. He had not snared her in the scroll with his blind inquisitiveness. He had not named her role to remain behind on the shore as he delved into the ocean. He had not loitered in the company of the seductress any longer than what was necessary. And he was not responsible for the frailty of her people and the cruel price time tolled for their existence. The tai youkai's eyes hardened with his resolve as his vision focused on her unwavering, stern expression.

 

“Miko?” he called out firmly, expecting her usual brand of awkward respect and receiving the unexpected launching of a spear in its place. Taking a swift step back, he twisted away from the projectile and grabbed the shaft of it easily. The sanded wood of its smooth length hummed as it vibrated in his firm grip and the wicked, obsidian tip trembled in the air, its path having nearly grazed him. With a thin brow arched in surprise at the force behind the throw, the demon entertained a slight smirk at the unerring aim of its caster. If he had not been Sesshoumaru, it would have surely struck the heart, a blow few would rise from and not before this elder miko finished her intent with the volcanic glass knife sheathed at her waist.

 

After lifting the deadly point to his face to inspect its expert workmanship, the demon glanced up from his increasing admiration to find the rock before him strangely vacant. Sprinting up the sandy slope of the outlying beach, the nude woman disappeared into the sprawling jungle of palm trees and exotic vegetation, leaving him alone in the lapping caress of the waves. Resting the long weapon casually against his shoulder, the curious youkai lord unhurriedly followed, matching her frantic pace with an easy, loping gait.

 

In a few short moments, he breached the border of trees and foliage to find the deepening labyrinth of the tropical forest beyond. Quietly, he tuned his sensitive ears for her sound, listening for the plodding steps and heavy breaths that marked her in his mind. He found none as he listened; only the subtle thumps of agile footsteps and soft sighs of light breaths filled the air. `Thirty-five years,' he thought silently as he wove through the dense ground cover towards the muted noises, slashing vines and branches with the easy swipe of his clawed hand.

 

The dark jungle bled on as he cleared his way through its entangled growth. The tai youkai quickened his pace as the fleeing miko's knowledge of its design put more distance between them. Towering trees fell before his intelligent strikes, opening up the canopy above and allowing the brilliant rays of the midday sun to find the seldom illuminated world below. His amber eyes rising to the sapphire of the heavens, Sesshoumaru briefly contemplated taking to the sky and avoiding the endless snarl of plants that plagued his way and the green pulp of their flesh that ground under his sharpened nails. As much as the idea appealed to his inherent fastidiousness, he quickly dismissed it from his mind. He wanted to see what had shaped the miko for so many years; he wanted to experience it, to be immersed in it, to understand it.

 

The darkness finally broke as the demon lord waded through the last of the trees, spying his quarry clambering up the sand coated hillside. Broken with rocky outcrops and crags, the mountain rose several paces beyond the woman's desperate steps as she scrambled for the peak. Her mad ascent stopped at the crest, her sweat glistening body dusted in places by white, powdery grains of sand. He sprang up the face of the hill in a breath, closing the distance as he landed lightly a few steps behind her.

 

“Miko?” he called out again with a softer voice as he stared up at her bare back as she gazed down the cliff face at her feet, her long hair caught in the updrafts of the light, sea breeze. “You have no other path. Come here.”

 

Turning her head slightly, her intense, sepia eyes left the remote, sandy shore and the vague shapes of distant trees that stained it at the foot of the cliff. Their dark brown depths roamed to the cool, golden sight of the demon at her back. Then she was gone, plummeting over the edge.

 

Sesshoumaru remained motionless for a moment, his rare, wide-eyed stare not quite believing the barren ground before him was empty. His bare feet crossed the remaining rough earth to the rim of the cliff and he impassively peered over the edge, expecting to find the broken body of the miko at its base. Instead it was a point of blue sparks that burst from the sand below. As the light waned, the mildly injured figure of the miko limped from her crater, hurriedly seeking the nearest patch of coconut trees.

 

“Hn,” the tai youkai snorted in disbelief and with a renewed smirk of respect, “The barrier as your cushion, miko? Well done.” Then the impressed demon too sprang off of the cliff, summoning his youki as he fell. The winds of aura swelled at his feet, slowing his descent.

 

He landed lightly on the sandy bed beside the miko's impact, his eyes falling to the soft, dragging trail her lame gait left. The sound of her labored breathing and rapid heartbeat caught in his ears as he entered the tall columns of palm trees. He wove through them noiselessly as he tracked the woman. The world remained silent to him except for her loudening beat and breath, only to be broken by the sudden, tightening creak of wood.

 

Dodging gracefully behind a thick trunk as the sparkling, pink glow of a purification arrow whizzed by his head, Sesshoumaru glanced back warily as the glittering projectile struck with a twang into a tree at his back. He could not help but smile again at the prickle of the fine hair on his forearm, singed ever faintly from the power the arrow had exuded as it passed. Stepping out from the safety behind the tree, the demon faced the determined miko standing resolutely with another arrow nocked in her elegantly carved bow. Blood trickled from her knee and lip with the darkening of a bruise hinting at her thigh. Neither her injuries nor her pain impeded her firm stance or hard glare as she leveled the tip of her arrow on the nearly, naked youkai before her.

 

“Miko?” Sesshoumaru called again, benignly tossing the spear he had been carrying onto the sand at her bare feet. “I do not mean to harm you. Do you not remember this Sesshoumaru? Do you not remember the scroll?”

 

The quiet murmur of tightening string as she drew the bow answered his line of questions. The demon lord frowned in his predicament and at the courses of action he could and should take. Her spiritual power had swelled greatly in his absence and her aim left no room for error. Without armor, he did not care to test her skill or strength. While he doubted that she could truly purify him, it was the humiliation of being burned by a mere priestess' arrow that presently invited the scowl on his face. A cloud of poison should distract her and like with Oto-hime, the barrier should leave her unscathed. Then he could disarm and restrain her until she came to her senses, if she could at this point. She did not remember him or the scroll. After so many years alone, as a human she may not even remember who she was.

 

“Miko?” he repeated, taking a step.

 

Another arrow flew from her hand as he moved towards her and he neatly shifted away as its hot glow passed. As quickly as that one left, a fresh arrow swiftly found its place nocked in her bow. Drawn before his sight returned to her, the projectile's cruel point centered on his chest, following him doggedly as he straightened his stance.

 

“Miko?” he asked gently again taking another step. “You are safe. I have returned as I vowed. Miko? Listen to me, miko.”

 

The string tightened as she ignored his words and growled under her breath at his steady approach.

 

“Miko? Miko?” he spoke over and over, the idea of having to restrain her by force cementing itself more in his mind with every step. Then a word that he had scarcely remembered in their traveling emerged from his memory and whispered its name in his thoughts. “Kagome?”

 

He saw her waver at the name, the golden complexion of her face paling at its sound.

 

“Kagome, please put down the bow,” the tai youkai commanded gently as he moved again in her direction, a placid expression hiding his discomfort at the shortening distance between her arrow and his person. “You are safe. There is no need to fight, Kagome.”

 

Her body trembling at her name and the memory it conjured, her aim lowered slightly as her lips moved, trying to speak with a voice that had faded many years ago.

 

“I--”, she murmured hoarsely, her hard, sepia eyes softening as she looked at the demon imploringly. “Iii--”

 

“I am listening, Kagome.”

 

“Iii--Ii-nu--” Kagome managed gruffly, struggling with the sounds she remembered, but had forgotten how to say. “I-nuu--”

 

He heard the word behind the rough syllables, the name she desperately wanted to hear. The only name she clung to in the isolation of this world. It was the one name that she depended on to always save her even as she learned how to save herself. It was the name of the one that she loved.

 

“Ii-nuu--”

 

“Inuyasha,” he finished soothingly, taking a final step towards her, the sharp tip of her arrowhead pricking against the smooth skin and hard muscle of his toned stomach.

 

Tears streaked down Kagome's face as he finished, her mind scarcely believing the word that escaped his lips. Then her reddening eyes poured over the demon as if she was looking at the man before her for the first time, trying to remember details from her dull and washed out memory. He had silver hair and golden eyes, like him. There was more, but it was so buried, so lost in her ancient memories. Shaking her head in frustration, she stared back pleadingly into his softened eyes.

 

“I-nu-ya-sha?”

 

They stood a long moment in the thundering silence of the distant waves and the rushing quiet of the ocean breeze rustling through the coconut trees. With her bow still drawn, the miko's sight never left the troubled gaze of the demon that her ready arrow was pressed against. Then his suddenly hardened expression relaxed and the turmoil of his mind settled.

 

“Yes.”

 

The bow dropped with a soft thud onto the sand as Kagome flew at the stiffening tai youkai and wrapped her wiry arms around his waist, her moistened cheeks buried into his solar plexus as she hugged him tightly.

 

“Inu-ya-sha. Inu-yasha, Inuyasha,” she repeated over and over between broken sobs of relief. She didn't know for sure, but he had silver hair and golden eyes. He knew the name and somehow with that, it was enough. He was him. Reluctantly at first and never quite comfortable, a clawed hand found her dark hair and stroked her gently as she cried out her weariness and anguish.

 

“Yes, I am Inuyasha. I have come and now you are safe, Kagome. You are safe.”