InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Temporal Sequence ❯ Chapter 12 ( Chapter 12 )

 

Temporal Sequence

 

Chapter 12:

 

The stars were magnificent in all their iridescent glory; burning away like thousands of fireflies, having long been lost within an immeasurable span of time.

 

“What is it like in your time?” he said, his words seemingly more distant than the stars above.

 

Her eyes slid to his face then as she traced the line of his jaw to his mouth. His head was tilted upwards as golden-hued eyes focused on the ceaseless heavens as though he could see its ending, where it all came together.

 

He was like the stars, but closer—only five hundred years separating him from her.

 

“It's nothing like this,” she replied pulling her eyes away from his moonlit face to resume her stargazing. “In five-hundred years, there aren't as many trees and people live in big cities. Cities so big that the villages here look more like ant hills.” She felt his eyes fall upon her then. She could always feel it when he looked at her. His gaze was so sharp and intense it felt like dozens of straight pins gliding across her skin delicately, teasing her with a subdued sense of danger.

 

“There are cars, which are basically motorized horse carriages—no four-legged mammals required,” she said proudly as she looked at him through the corner of her eye. He always had this stern look of concentration on his face when he was listening. “And lots of industries. Industries, at least the smog-related ones, are characterized by factories full of machines that are programmed to make—“

 

“Kagome,” he said flatly.

 

“Huh?”

 

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

 

“Oh.” She suddenly felt stupid for rambling on about things unknown to him, but then again, she had no idea how to make him visualize these things. It wasn't like she even knew how a car worked! This was quickly becoming an arduous task.

 

“You were saying that it is different. Trees are less abundant and humans live in cities that are too enormous to describe. Am I following so far?” She nodded with a sudden sense of reassurance now that he summed it all up for her. He was the quintessential good listener. “So I take it your world not only looks different, but feels different as well?”

 

She suddenly remembered what she was shooting for with the whole tree-car-industry example.

 

“You can't see the stars,” she said regretfully, a single finger pointing toward the black and blue sky. His eyes instinctually followed her movement.

 

“Humans have advanced much. Perhaps too much?” His eyes fell on her again and her forearms pimpled.

 

“Yeah, too much,” she said as her eyes found their way back to his jaw again. She saw the muscle twitch slightly as his lips pressed together in a thin line, that look of stern concentration deepening at his brow.

 

“If a tree is uprooted, the earth must compensate for its loss with a new seedling. Everything gives eventually and thus living creatures must learn to balance between their own lives and the life of the land that enables the existence of all. I'm surprised that humans have yet to learn this.”

 

Her heart stilled for a moment as old, cracked wood clouded her vision. Balance was a difficult concept indeed, countered by misguided hearts and unclear priorities. Which life was more important…?

 

“Life just…got so complicated. Unfortunately, I think people let themselves get too busy to even think about balance,” she said so softly that she wondered if she had said it aloud. She wasn't even sure if she was talking about life in the future anymore, or her own life.

 

His eyebrows rose slightly and arched inward—his indication to elaborate.

 

“Life is structured in such a way that people have no spare time. There's little time for broadening horizons and planting saplings when you got to work for eight-plus hours after shuttling the kids off to school, only to come home to cook and clean. It's exhausting!”

 

She saw the hint of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

 

“What's wrong with diligence?”

 

Was that what they called it—diligence? To her, it was more like deciding between structured exhaustion and wishful thinking. Four-year accredited college degree or time-defying epic adventures? Ironically, in the end, she'll never know if she made the right choice. All the what-ifs made the hectic suburban life seem uncannily alluring.

 

Did I make the right choice by coming back to this era? Or am I making the wrong choice by leaving it behind?

 

She supposed that the well would make that decision for her when it was all said and done simply because she didn't have the gall to make it herself. She had decided upon the associate's degree just in case the well led her home. That way, she'd have at least a little something, but something in her gut told her that there was a reason she called the other side of the well home.

 

Why on earth did Sesshoumaru, out of all people, make her think about these things she had kept hidden under the rug? Yeah, she'd stumble upon that little pile eventually, but at least for now she could blissfully pretend that she hadn't swept all that significant crap under there.

 

“Nothing,” she replied hazily, her mind rebooting after her brief get-away to la-la land. “It's just that…it's menial. No one's happy with their jobs or take pride in their work. Half the world's population seem to be paper pushers!” she said in mock exasperation as she looked to him. His jaw twitched again.

 

“Paper pushers?”

 

“Never mind. The real point I'm trying to make is that money rules the world in my time and everybody wants a piece of the new power pie. And technically speaking, everybody and their mama can have a slice. In the pursuit for a share of that proverbial pie, people will do anything to get ahead and they tend to forget themselves. Even if they aren't personally responsible for ripping out the forests and installing smokestacks, they still integrate into the system and perpetuate it day in and day out. A whole six billion drones or drones-in-training populate a quickly deadening and increasingly homogenized planet.” She sighed long and hard, her head rising to meet the expanse above. “Sounds pretty bleak, huh?”

 

At least here she had the stars.

 

“Life has always been monotonous,” he replied lazily. “And power, whatever form it takes, is always a driving force behind human destruction. At the very least, the search for power exasperates them to the point of discontent. It doesn't seem all that different here and now, no?”

 

She thought she saw a shooting star as she felt his eyes roll over her. He had said that everything gives, so maybe she shouldn't be so ashamed that people in her own era didn't seem to give a damn about trees and stars. At least there was more freedom and maybe, just maybe, that was worth the price of the stars.

 

“I suppose. But are youkai so different?”

 

“We can obtain that desired level of power of our own accord. If not, we have hundreds of years to seek it. Humans have no such options. It does not surprise me that they seek it by further exploiting the land.”

 

His eyes left her, searching the night sky again. The breeze suddenly felt cooler.

 

“In my time,” she said dreamily, wishing in vain for a pint of ice cream to magically appear to take the edge off the warm night. “Buildings are exponentially larger than trees. There are endless stores and roads there to make our lives easier. You can buy all of the essentials and more. An abundance of food and clothing sit on racks and shelves to be purchased at a set price. Machines and wires connect people from all around the world. Knowledge is at our fingertips and yet we seem too busy to fully appreciate it.”

 

Goosebumps broke out on her neck. He was looking at her again.

 

“There is so much—even more than you could possibly imagine. People are educated and medicine is far beyond the primitive medicinal herbs used here. We drill into the ocean floor for oil and launch rockets into space allowing men to set foot on the moon. It's amazing, but so artificial. There's a sad lack of clean air and open fields. There are no endless forests and glittering skies. It's…it's all lost.”

 

“The cycle of supply and demand leads to one undeniable conclusion—the desire to amass more capital.”

 

Her eyes turned on him then, wondering where in the hell that had come from.

 

As though reading her mind, he said, “The book.”

 

“You remembered that?”

 

“I remember everything, except my age.”

 

A small smile spread across his face at the sheer irony of his words and she couldn't help but laugh. Somehow or another he had just managed to encase all her sadness and uncertainty about her own future in a block of ice and chucked it into the sea to float away unnoticed into the watery abyss.

 

And all it took was a few words and a rare smile.

 

After she calmed down from her brief moment of euphoria, he spoke. “I cannot imagine these things you speak of, but from what I have gathered it seems the society of the future operates in a drastically different manner. I could see this in that book.” He paused then and she intuitively knew he was awaiting her response.

 

“Capitalism and democracy are the names of the games. Apparently you now know all about capitalism,” she said with a hint of sarcasm. “Democracy is the political system that goes along with it. People are free and not bound by a hierarchy based on birth. They elect their representatives and influence government and policy-making. It's an egalitarian system of ruling.”

 

His lips thinned and she detected the subtle roll of muscle within his jaw as his mouth slowly opened. Did he always do that when conversing? If he had, she hadn't noticed, but it was oddly hypnotizing.

 

“But capitalism is not an egalitarian system. How do such contrasting systems coexist?”

 

Wow…maybe he had a point when he said she underestimated his intelligence.

 

“I don't know, but they do. People value a sense of self-determination and so both systems are widely accepted without question.”

 

His face took on a thoughtful countenance as his eyes drifted back to the starlit sky, the haze of reminiscence clearing from its momentary fog. She recognized that look from before—he was remembering something. She couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking about.

 

“Then I would presume that these concepts are equity-based in theory, but not in practice. After all, for one to succeed as a capitalist they must first have capital. It seems logical that those born into families with more capital maintain an advantage in that system. So in essence, wealthy families in this era, were they to retain their affluence, would have a striking advantage in your era. Basically, your future relies on illusions of what ought to be. I do suppose that makes sense. Humans, more so than most creatures, seem rather content with illusions.”

 

She just stared at him, mouth agape, feeling suddenly stupid in comparison to him. She had thirteen years of school and two semesters of community college under her belt and he, placed in a time unfamiliar of such things, was already besting her in futuristic topics. His profound thoughtfulness and skeptical nature would make him the ideal college student. Her professors would adore him!

 

“Well then, what would you have society be like?” She had to ask; she just had to. It just wasn't fair that he caught on so quickly! He was basically speaking of the sociological legitimization crisis and just didn't know it since it was another two hundred or so years in the making. She never would have guessed that he was such a forward thinker.

 

His eyes found her again, somehow, amidst the starlight.

 

“I am not presumptuous enough to think I have such answers. But I think that people should not be limited by birth in the nobility sense, but rather should be allotted accordingly in society based on their talents.”

 

“Well, democracy is based on merit.” She looked for his jaw to twitch. She wasn't disappointed.

 

“No, it's not. It's based on manipulation and domination—those with more reign supreme. It's not much different than this era's societal order. Here, bloodlines openly rule. In your world they simply mask the underlying injustice of it all. You said so yourself.”

 

“I did?” she asked lamely, simply dumbstruck, like a deer gazing into headlights, by the words coming out of his mouth. Or maybe it was that delightful little twitch of muscle at his jaw that made her so dumbfounded. Maybe it was both.

 

“Yes. You said people are discontent because their lives are miserably exhausting and they despise what they do day in and day out. People should do what they're good at, then they will derive a sense of contentment.”

 

“Shouldn't they do what they love?”

 

“What's the point if they're no good at it. It will simply lead to frustration.”

 

She wondered if he knew how very reminiscent his thoughts were to Plato's concept of arete. She figured he'd have an elitist's social philosophy, considering his privileged origins and temporal placement, but this? This was beyond her wildest dreams! He probably didn't even know who the hell Plato was, but that didn't dissuade her newly formed awe of him.

 

“But in your world greed rules supreme. Greed dominates one's life, making him yield to its every whim. And it is insatiable, devouring his essence only to make him wanton for more. I understand greed and its destructive properties. That is why I believe your era's ways of doing things will inevitably fail. There is only so much the land can give and yet the desire inflated by greed is never-ending. This capitalism is plagued by inequality and for all the wrong reasons.”

 

Well, he did have a point, but… She imagined her awe-struck professors taking notes while a red and green clad Sesshoumaru gave a fervent speech on the evils of capitalism. She could envision him leading a march with a red-starred flag in hand. She wondered what he'd be doing at the end of the nineteenth century.

 

Perhaps what was worst of all was that his words struck a different chord within her, making her heart cringe at the dissonance. Greed… No one would call her greedy, but sometimes her chest would hurt because she felt so overly denied in life. She couldn't make good grades in high school or keep a normal friend. She couldn't have her first love nor could she obtain his praise. She felt so unworthy of everything and yet everybody seemed to depend on her for something. Maybe the problem wasn't with everyone else…maybe she was the problem. Maybe she just wanted too much.

 

Then again, maybe she was denied so much because she had too much on her plate. She really had no sense of balance whatsoever.

 

“It's still better than what's going on here!” she stubbornly asserted, feeling slightly vexed that her era's problems were being blown out of proportion. They were having this conversation in an era referred to as the Warring States for crying out loud!

 

“Perhaps, but honor is a more just reason for inequality than wealth.”

 

She should have been surprised that the man beside her, privileged from birth and favoring an aristocratic society, placed honor before power. Was he always so? Or was he equating power with honor?

 

“This capitalism from your book seems to spur much progress, which you humans deem a good thing. I disagree. Tradition stands as it does for a reason—to remind us what has worked in the past so that we may not repeat our mistakes. Progress wishes to oust tradition and if the cost is the stars, then it is not worth it.”

 

She was beginning to think that Sesshoumaru was anything but young at heart. Again, a devious little image sprang to life. This time, a suburban Sesshoumaru was yelling about disrespectful youth while waving a stick at a group of teenagers cutting through his lawn. She suppressed a giggle.

 

But…she loved to sleep under the stars.

 

“Would you try to change it then—the future? You know, since you disagree with the way things turn out.”

 

This was actually something she was a teeny-weeny, itsy-bitsy wary about. Why was he so interested in the future and what would he do with information about her era? It worried her, just a bit. Then again, maybe he was simply curious.

 

“No.”

 

“Why? Inaction will cost you the stars.”

 

That muscle twitched again and she found herself anticipating his response. Though she was strangely captivated by that insignificant little movement of his jaw, she found herself reluctant to bring the conversation to an end, though she knew she should go to bed soon. As surprising a realization as it was, she was loath to admit that she would mourn the loss of his voice. He had such a nice voice.

 

“I must accept the inevitable changes that will occur around me. I must adapt. It's the only way my kind has survived as we have.”

 

They stared silently for a while at the dark canvas spread above them, stars sprinkled about like sparkling splatters of paint. She traced familiar formations so beautifully pronounced in the black backdrop that she could only read about in her time.

 

“I think I'll go home tomorrow and bring you more books,” she said softly, her eyes refusing to leave the stars that she may only vaguely recall in the years before her.

 

“Why?”

 

“I obviously can't explain lots of things to you, so I think it'll be better that way. You know, if you have something to look at.”

 

And now I know what you really think about the future…

 

“I would like that.”

 

x x x

 

The twilight hours were always amazing, he thought aimlessly as a cool breeze drifted through the trees.

 

He thought about Kagome and her surprising level of education. He would have never guessed that a female, especially a human female, could be so intelligent and so well versed in political thought. Then again, her era seemed to value education enough to make it a communal commodity. He supposed that was a step in the right direction for humans. He quite liked the idea of educating females. Then there would be no excuse for the majority of their behaviors.

 

She rolled over and finally faced him with wide, alert eyes. She had lied down quite some time ago and had yet to succumb to slumber. Something was on her mind and knowing her as he did, he just knew that eventually she'd want to talk about it.

 

“Sesshoumaru?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“How come you have such strong opinions on democracy? I know it sounds silly of me to ask, but I—“

 

“Athens,” he said distantly as a dark-skinned man came into view behind his eyes.

 

“Huh? How do you know of Athens?”

 

A flamboyant red cloak floated on the breeze, carrying with it a hearty laugh scented with old wine.

 

“Was the birth place of democracy,” he mechanically replied, the vision of blackened eyes and silk turbans becoming clearer than it had before. Earlier, during their conversation, Kagome had once again stirred a memory to life, forcibly making him recall a distant foreigner his father had brought home. And all because some youkai wanted to learn Japanese.

 

“So someone had taught you of these things before?”

 

“Yes, but that is a tale better saved for another day. It is much too long.”

 

“Oh,” she replied, disappointment rearing its head.

 

The breeze shifted quietly, pushing his hair into his face as it brought to him the whispers of nightly life within the forest. Nature was so beautiful he realized, thinking about a distant world where trees were sparse and stars invisible.

 

“Sesshoumaru?”

 

He opened his eyes, his sight falling upon blackened strands tinted blue in the moonlight. He was beginning to realize he liked her hair. It possessed a shade far darker than most with a healthy sheen and a unique bluish tone to it, beautifully highlighted by soft waves. Though he faintly recognized that the conveniences of her era most likely contributed to that phenomenon, he still appreciated it nonetheless.

 

It was befitting of her eyes.

 

“What did you mean when you said you knew greed?”

 

He knew she should be resting, though it eluded her preoccupied mind, but he found her look of disappointment from before slightly unsettling. And she was the one who had once again made him remember. For that, he somehow felt she deserved to know.

 

“The journey of conquest is in and of itself marked by greed. Power lust is nothing more than greed and that I know well.” She didn't look surprised, though he figured she shouldn't, but he still didn't know why that was so.

 

He recalled claws slicing through red scales and venomous drool curling upward in wisps of green vapor. Kazuma glided through the air as though he was a flacon in a previous life while dodging lethal flames without even breaking a sweat amongst the intense heat.

 

“Will you tell me a story?” she asked quietly, hope filling big blue eyes.

 

Was that what she desired—a story? Perhaps that was why she was disappointed when he didn't share his memories of the foreigner who brought to him a shallow understanding of lands far away, making him all the more incessant upon upholding tradition. That was too much to tell so late in the night, but this one was much shorter and much clearer. Perhaps he should tell her what he almost did.

 

Blood flowed thick and began to glow…

 

“What do you think you're doing?”

 

“Kazuma once taught me what I had long presumed to be the greatest lesson he had ever given me,” he said lethargically, carefully annunciating each syllable as he thought how best to describe this particular snippet of his life.

 

“Convenience is never worth the price of honor. Remember that.”

 

“What was that?”

 

“Greed makes one take short cuts. Convenience, he had said, is never worth the price of honor.”

 

xxx

 

“Finished already?”

 

“Yes,” he replied lazily. It was another book on war. Humans apparently immersed themselves in various war theories in order to find the most beneficial combat strategies. He understood the importance of military prowess, but these were all just some mortals' opinions, nothing more. To him, each battle was a separate entity, meaning each held within itself a highly individual set of circumstances in which a customized plan of attack must be realized.

 

Maybe that's what Kazuma was trying to teach him.

 

“Good,” Kazuma replied. “Now write out a summary and what you have learned. Then compare it to the previous ones you have read. I expect it done by tonight—“

 

The door opened, revealing a disheveled messenger.

 

“I hope you have due reason for barging in so disrespectfully,” Kazuma said lazily as he glared at the emissary from behind narrowed eyes.

 

“Yes, milord,” the uniformed man said while straightening himself. “A dragon youkai has broken through the northern defense. The stronghold has been annihilated.”

 

“I would have thought the Inu no Taishou had the best defenses in all of Japan seeing as how he takes such extended leaves.”

 

“But milord, something is off with this youkai. He's enormous and beastly! He's a taiyoukai and demonstrates no control whatsoever! And his wounds heal as soon as they're inflicted!”

 

“Dragons have always healed quickly. What do you think Sesshoumaru?” his uncle asked, inclining his head toward him to prompt a response.

 

“It sounds odd. Dragons heal quickly, but not quicker than inuyoukai. Perhaps we should take him out?”

 

“Are you up to it?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then we shall leave immediately.”

 

His uncle stood with haste and Sesshoumaru followed him to the adjacent room where they kept their personal weapons. He fumbled with the black leather straps as Kazuma chose a weapon, his copper breastplate already in place. With armor now secured, he moved next to his uncle, wondering how much longer he'd fit into this particular set of armor. He still looked to be approximately the age of a sixteen year-old human boy, though he was much, much older. He knew he shouldn't concern himself with something as meaningless as his first armor set since one day he'd have a son to whom he would give it, but it was his first and only birthday gift.

 

Wiping sentimentality from his mind, he focused on Kazuma's burgundy kosode as the demon strapped a long broadsword onto his back with a poppy-colored sash. He took it upon himself to procure a standard katana, which he immediately secured through his obi at his hip, content with his choice after a nod of approval from his uncle. Without any words exchanged, he followed Kazuma around the twisting corridors until they were outside, the warm air a nice reprieve from the damp and drafty citadel.

 

He then made move to summon his cloud of ki, the wisps of red smoke rising from beneath his feet.

 

“No,” Kazuma stated sternly. “Conserve your youki. We are to face an unstable taiyoukai. We have no idea what we're up against.”

 

He nodded, retracting his energy back within himself when Kazuma leapt over the stone wall surrounding the fortress. He followed suit and soon enough the two of them were gliding over the treetops faster than a mortal's eye could see.

 

He picked up on the heavy scents of blood and fire soon after their departure and he could feel the immense power radiating off the youkai in the distance. He had never felt such power so massively warped. Something was definitely amiss.

 

“There,” Kazuma said, the sound faint among the harsh wind they created as they sped through the air.

 

He looked at the bloodied clearing and leapt downwards, Kazuma already standing among the dead bodies. An ungodly roar erupted from behind the line of trees on the other side of the clearing.

 

“Something unnatural has exponentially increased this youkai's strength. His power is amazing,” Kazuma said, breaking the deathly silence.

 

“What could have done such a thing?”

 

“I think I have an idea,” his uncle responded cryptically, taking a step forward. “Whatever happens Sesshoumaru, heroics are not worth your life, understand?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good. However, I think we'll be able to handle this just fine,” Kazuma said as he threw Sesshoumaru a confident look from over his shoulder, a small smirk showing sharp fangs.

 

That look made Sesshoumaru's blood move—this was his chance to impress his uncle.

 

A loud crash slammed through the air as the trees moaned their own demise, branches giving way to a hefty creature. A red serpentine dragon emerged with smudged golden marks under his glowing eyes. His eyes were mere slits and his scales shimmered a deep red in the sunlight as he moved with a speed far too great for a creature of such stature. He was indeed large, so large in fact that Sesshoumaru would wager he was at least twice the size of his father's demonic form.

 

The dragon roared again, a long breath of fire escaping past long, thick fangs. The earth rumbled in response as he moved forward; blood lust lingering in the air like a blinding fog. Kazuma surged forth to meet him, his speed greater than the ghastly creature's. Kazuma moved like lightning—the very air's constitution disrupted by the sheer force of his speed. Kazuma was so fast that he could never tell where the air began and ended; Kazuma a ceaseless shadow, seemingly immobile as he transported himself from plane to lateral plane. It was awe-inspiring watching him move; there was no telling where he'd end up.

 

Kazuma's youki whip flared to life and within seconds one of the dragon's monstrous fangs was caught. Kazuma pulled downward and forced the creature into a bowing position. He didn't await instructions as he rushed toward the subdued dragon. Upon arriving near its gigantic head, he released his dokkasou and ran his poisonous claws through the dragon's snout. The monster screamed in protest, bucking its head up and down until it freed itself from Kazuma's whip.

 

“Out of the way!” Kazuma yelled as he leapt backwards. Sesshoumaru did the same and felt the surging wave of heat upon his back as the dragon tried to take them out with a rain of fire. He turned mid-air as he landed, all the while watching as the dragon's flames vanished into nothing but black smoke. The beast turned on him then and charged, nostrils flaring in outrage as green goop oozed from his wounded snout.

 

His blood was discharging the poison.

 

Sesshoumaru darted upward as his own youki whip extended from his fingertips, his inherent venom gathering at his claws only to drip downward, coating his whip and doubling the weapon's lethal effects. He pushed forward as though he was walking on air and slammed his whip down onto the dragon's face, pulling back and thrusting downward again. Deep, infectious gashes covered the beast's scaly face and with one last slice as he fell toward the ground, Sesshoumaru gouged out one of the dragon's eyes.

 

When he reached the grass below he noticed that Kazuma had done some damage as well. His uncle was running at a dizzying pace as he ran his claws through the dragon's underbelly, red scales ripping apart, permitting the crimson lifeblood to fall uninhibited as the dragon screamed.

 

Sesshoumaru leapt up again as Kazuma cleared the monster's belly and prepared his dokkasou. When he met the remaining eye of the dragon he noticed, with much chagrin, that the creature's facial wounds were closing, once again discharging the acid from within.

 

“What?” he whispered. The dragon released an inferno wave again, this time much faster, forcing Sesshoumaru to draw his sword to ward off the flames as he landed, the line of fire matching his own angle and pace. The metal held it's own as it began glowing from the incomprehensible heat. The metal would melt at this rate.

 

The heat retracted suddenly and a pitiful yelp spiraled out from the beast's lungs. He threw the hot sword to the ground, immediately noticing Kazuma's bloodied sword gripped between white and red knuckles. He had cut off the dragon's front two legs.

 

Sesshoumaru moved forward with fingers extended, a soft green glow emitting from sharp claws taut with anticipation.

 

“Wait,” Kazuma said. “I wish to test my theory.”

 

“Shouldn't we take him out now while he's immobile? It seems less cruel than allowing him to bleed to death.”

 

“Sometimes it is wise to delay killing an adversary if it permits you to learn more about a greater enemy.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You'll learn to sense these things more acutely with time. For now, I think you are about to understand my meaning,” Kazuma said as his eyes slid back to the blood-red dragon.

 

Sesshoumaru then felt a powerful pull, like the air around him had been sucked into a great vortex. The pulse of malevolent power was consuming as his inner beast growled for release. He could feel it pushing against his will as his claws elongated.

 

“What's happening?” he ground out, very much aware of his guttural voice.

 

“Control yourself, boy. The dragon has healed.”

 

He refocused his eyes on the previously dying beast and nearly gasped when he realized that the dragon's front legs had reattached themselves to the body. The dragon youkai roared in triumph as it tested its renewed appendages, its snout flaring as it prepared itself for another fire attack. He watched in awe as a fierce flame reached out for him, faintly recognizing a pull and tear at his neck. He was moving away from the dragon.

 

“Snap out of it, boy,” Kazuma chastised as he dropped a piece of blue and white fabric.

 

Had he frozen like a foolish child just then?

 

Before he could think on it anymore, Kazuma's eyes changed from their natural olive shade to a flaming red as his youki gathered around his body in a fierce cyclone. His body morphed into a giant red dog, his crescent moon a shade darker than his fur. Sesshoumaru concentrated intensely; not yet so accustomed to transforming into his baser beast. His youki accumulated with ease as he focused on each and every limb and fiber of his body, willing it to mold itself as he pleased. He could feel his muscles enlarging and his claws and fangs lengthening. He could feel every part of his being changing as he ignored the sharp, fiery pain of metamorphosis.

 

Kazuma already had the dragon's neck between his fangs, the beast continuously moving its head from side to side, unknowingly deepening the lacerations on its own throat as flames shot out of its scaly mouth. He could hear the distinct crunch of bones as Kazuma's jaws tightened down, creating more and more pressure that could not be withstood by any creature. Sesshoumaru charged forth and snagged the dragon's leg, his acid-infused saliva almost instantly severing the appendage. The youkai screamed in agony and Sesshoumaru responded by clamping his massive jaws down over the dragon's snout, firmly closing it and ending the rain of fire. Venom seeped into the gaping flesh, scourging the beast from within. The roars became muffles as gigantic fangs pierced through bone, the dragon's snout collapsing into uselessness. Sesshoumaru then moved to the side of its belly, dragging venomous claws from the creature's spine to its underbelly, blood pouring like a waterfall, a green mist resident at its base. Something luminous fell from the side of its belly then and rolled away from the taiyoukai, a ray of light reflected off the shiny surface to wink at him as the dragon's innards fell to the ground. Sesshoumaru retracted his claws as Kazuma bit through the creature's neck, immediately transforming to his humanoid state as he pulled his broadsword from his back to run down the creature's other side as he fell to the ground. The dragon was nearly split in half.

 

Sesshoumaru walked to the shiny black object lying on the ground and changed back to his more natural form as he neared it. He bent down to look at it and realized it was a jewel of some sort, though it wasn't a black pearl as he had first thought. The strangest thing of all was the warped and ominous power that rolled off the still stone in tsunami-like waves; it was so powerful, it was overwhelming. It beckoned him to pick it up and hold it within his palm so he could fully appreciate and savor its delicious offerings. His fingers were itching to touch it and taste the limitless power it offered him. What was this thing that called to his very blood with a power so profound that his inner beast was entranced, demanding release once again. Nothing ever spoke to his inner demon with such accord. Like it was made just for him…

 

He reached for it.

 

“What do you think you're doing?”

 

He barely registered his uncle's voice as the sweet song of promised power whispered harmoniously within his ear.

 

“Just think what I could become with this in my possession,” he whispered lustfully; his fingers nearing the magical object as his eyes darkened with want.

 

Kazuma used the end of his sword and pushed the black jewel from Sesshoumaru's reach. “That, is not for you,” Kazuma warned.

 

He turned accusing red eyes on his uncle.

 

“Want it for yourself?” He could not believe the words that had just left his mouth nor could he even consider the malicious tone of voice he had just used. He suddenly didn't feel like himself and his eyes returned to their usual golden hue.

 

“Listen to yourself, boy,” Kazuma asserted with an authority fit for a king. “Greed is an all-consuming entity that never rests. It will eat away your very soul and you'll never even realize what you've become.”

 

Power was his obsession, his one and only desire in the world, and so he lusted after it like an infatuated teenager, too eager for instant gratification to contain his more primal urges. He had wanted power for quite some time now, its birth associated with a consuming desire to make his father love him. But his father valued control and his lust made him abandon that hard-won discipline over his mind and body in order to shorten the route to ultimate conquest. Had he succumbed to desperation? Or had his ultimate goal changed?

 

Maybe pleasing his father was not as important as it had once been. Maybe now it was more like wishing to best his father…

 

“That thing is the greater enemy of which I spoke. Born from the souls of a priestess and a demon, the Shikon no Tama holds within it unimaginable power. It is said it even grants wishes and that a single shard alone will make a demon exponentially stronger.”

 

“It is evil then? Is that why I should not have it?”

 

“It is not evil or good. If my understanding is correct, then it amplifies the dominant intentions of the bearer, even warping them. All living things tend to be selfish and so one can easily see why such a thing is dangerous. I highly doubt that that dragon youkai was evil. Usually taiyoukai don't go on rampages. He had obviously lost his mind.”

 

“How are you so sure?”

 

“Taiyoukai prefer their humanoid forms. It is more convenient and manageable. It is easier to fight expediently and efficiently in such a form, not to mention that many of our innate gifts are only accessible in our humanoid forms—like our youki whips. It was not wise for him to fight us in his primal form. A lack of tactical wisdom in such a powerful being is indicative of lunacy.”

 

“You think that jewel made him crazy from power lust?”

 

“Yes. That thing is not even safe to touch.”

 

“Perhaps I have more control than he did. I'm sure I'm more powerful as well, so perhaps I can control the jewel.” His uncle stiffened and a scowl spread across his face, marring his otherwise elegant features.

 

“In truth, power is a corrupting force,” he began slowly, drawing Sesshoumaru further in with each drawled syllable. “However, I believe that those greatly gifted with it from birth are less susceptible to its destructive properties. Your father is an astounding example of which you should emulate. But that object will undoubtedly destroy your ability to ward off the corruption of power. That is why power must be obtained through diligence and persistence and knowledge. It must be earned—that is the only way to achieve it honorably.”

 

His uncle stepped forward as he untied his orange sash, bending down to pick up the black jewel between the folds of the thick fabric.

 

“Are we to find a miko?”

 

“Yes, and quick,” his uncle replied. “This thing is too warped for me to handle for too long, or else I may succumb to its destructive spell.” He nodded at his uncle and turned toward the trees, prepared to propel himself onto their branches.

 

“Sesshoumaru,” Kazuma said with a tone of weary authority.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Convenience is never worth the price of honor. Remember that.”

 

Kazuma leapt above the trees then as an exasperated Sesshoumaru followed, all the while wondering if he could ever surpass his father in power while still retaining his honor.

 

xxx

 

“I located a miko shortly thereafter while Kazuma kept watch over the jewel. He had such monumental control that the jewel's powerful aura seemed to have no effect on him. It was rather amazing, and so from then on I strove to match his control and resolve so I too would not mar my honor.”

 

That was the day he realized the importance of honor and vowed to make it the centerpiece of his life. He taught himself how to balance his growing power with his hard-line sense of honor and he felt he was better for it, though he was loath to admit that at times he did not hold this concept to its highest of standards. Though he knew that much to be true, something dark with hatred and bitter with resentment tickled the back of his mind as though to remind him of some deep-seeded act of treachery later to come that would repeatedly try and test that oath so carefully cultivated within himself.

 

“Do you know what happened to the jewel?” she asked with a ghostly shadow tainting her tone.

 

“Well, the miko took it reluctantly, claiming she didn't have the power to protect such an object so sought after by youkai. She was to take it to the village where it was created, saying that the demon slayers there would be fit to guard it. She was attacked and killed during her journey by bandits who took the jewel and wrought havoc on several human villages. It somehow ended up in the belly of another demon that was slain by those same exterminators she was seeking,” he replied monotonously, the shadow of doubt lingering in his mind. “But I don't think that's the last I saw of it.”

 

“Your uncle was right, you know,” she said, exhaustion finally seeping into her voice. “Everyone who comes into contact with that jewel suffer because of it.”

 

Yes, he knew, for Kazuma was always right.

 

“You know of the Shikon no Tama?” he asked quietly as he traced the shadows dancing across her moonlight face.

 

“Yeah,” she supplied lazily, sleepiness clouding her normally clear, bright voice. “It's why I'm here.”

 

He listened as her breathing slowed and evened, all the while trying to rid his mind of the uncannily disturbing images of a glowing arrow and dark tentacles.

 

x x x