InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Tale of Sesshoumaru ❯ Homecoming ( Chapter 68 )

Disclaimer: I do not own copyright to any of the Inuyasha characters. Wish I did. I make no profit off of my fan fiction. Wish I did.

 

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Disclaimer #3: This fan fiction is rated R for violence, straight/gay/bi/group sex, gore and supernatural yummy goodness. If you are under the age of 18, I suggest getting your parents permission to read this. I am not responsible for any psychological damage my rantings might bring you :^P

 

 

The month played itself out. Akanesuji gained back her strength some and often left Manatsu with Sesshoumaru to spar in the snowy courtyards with Sango and Kagome. His lordship would sit with him in the main hall, not far from the armor of Inu No Taisho. He was no longer allowed in Akanesuji's private rooms. She would lock the doors and if he even tried to open them she would jump out the window and take the baby with her. He got the hint after the first several go rounds.

 

He was satisfied enough to spend time with the inukoro. Manatsu would sleep a lot, but when he was awake he was awfully cute and entertaining. He was cute because he was helpless. He couldn't sit. Couldn't crawl. Couldn't talk. He didn't smile yet either. His father could do nothing but talk to him and watch him watching him back.

 

It was the most he had ever talked to anyone in his whole long life. The great and mighty daiyoukai found talking to someone who would not judge him, scold him or argue with him quite refreshing. Manatsu didn't care what he said or didn't say. He could have read from a cookbook for all the baby cared. He also didn't kiss up to him like Jaken. That was refreshing too.

 

Sango and Kagome's anger towards him had dwindled much. How could they be mad with him huddled up with his son being so darned cute? He would get so involved in talking to the inukoro that he wouldn't notice the humans watching him. When he would figure out they were spying on him, he would stiffen and grow silent, but never would he push the baby from his lap. He would just wait for them to go away and start talking some more.

 

A couple of days before the full moon appeared, so did InuYasha walking before a line of horses and other beasts of burden packed up with trunks. At the front just behind him were Akanesuji's two sisters, wearing thick padded jackets against the cold and snow. Mud covered the horses legs and their breath was steaming. Seeing them enter the courtyard, Kagome rushed for him, jumping into his arms and he twirled her around.

 

Akanesuji ran too, helping her sisters off their mounts with hugs and kisses. “Come in side, hurry,” she said, grabbing up the littlest one and throwing her over her hip like she once did Rin. She took the other's hand and they all giggled to the doors.

 

Sesshoumaru heard all the commotion and lifted his head. The gaggle of women entered the room, the two younger looking at him with mild curiosity. Akanesuji ignored him entirely, her new found way of dealing with his presence. “Is that him?” the oldest asked in a hushed whisper, “your lord husband you wrote of?”

 

“Yes,” her ladyship answered, pulling her coat off her sister and then kneeling down to help the other. “That is your lord Sesshoumaru. Not very scary is he?”

 

The littlest laughed like bells chiming. Sesshoumaru stiffened, holding Manatsu tighter to his chest.

 

“Fluffy, these are my sisters Ajisai and Anzu.” She said his name like it was revolting slug. The two girls bowed low and when he nodded, he found himself attacked by their little hands pulling at the baby. The oldest one grabbed Manatsu up and the younger one plastered herself to the other's side, leaving him empty handed. He was not amused.

 

“Oh sister, he's soooooo cute,” Ajisai said, kissing him on the forehead. “You're oba-chan (auntie) is here!”

 

“My turn! My turn!” cried Anzu, and Akanesuji smiled. Nope. Sesshoumaru had no idea what hell he had caused by bringing them here. She sat down on the edge of the dias a few feet from him and watched the two girls kneel down and huddle over her baby. They looked like two wolves at a supper, hunched protectively over a haunch of deer.

 

The father looked at the two girls carefully, judging them up. It had been many years since he had seen them. The last time they were tiny and not even worth his notice. They both looked like younger versions of his wife, white skin, white hair, red stripes on their faces in different configurations. They even smelled a lot like her.

 

In some ways it was hard to look at Ajisai, she looked like Akanesuji back when they had gathered frogs and kissed on the southern wall. Her body language was similar, the slope of her nose and cheek reminiscent of those far away days. Pulling himself out of his thoughtful haze he looked back to his wife. “Are they going to be like this all the time?”

 

Akanesuji never even acknowledged him. She stood and patted the girls on the head. “Give him to me and we will go get you settled. Then you can play with him all evening long.” The girls lifted him up and gave him to her then grabbed up their things and followed her out.

 

Sesshoumaru wanted to growl. He was not amused at all.

 

Sango passed by the entry a few moments later, her cheeks a bright red and her nose too. The cold had put a flush on her face and her fingers looked a little blue. “Lady Sango,” he called to her, bringing her back to the door frame.

 

“I”m sorry. I didn't see you there or I would have greeted you.” She bowed low and then stood respectfully.

 

“Please. Come speak with me,” he said, his eyes looking to the spot before him, a subtle instruction. She nodded and came before him, sitting on her shins. “My lady, please come closer. What I wish to speak to you of is of a most private nature.”

 

Sango was confused, but scooted herself closer before him, her knees almost touching his. She set her hands in her lap and looked him in the eye. “As you know,” he began, “I care for the wind witch Kagura, whom you have throughly beaten in my presence.” She nodded in understanding. “Should we ever meet up with her again, you must kill her.”

 

“I do not understand. If you care for her, why kill her?”

 

“She longs for death. It is her only release from the horror she lives in.”

 

“I see.” She lied. She didn't care really. She'd kill her regardless. Kagura was part of Naraku, and Naraku held her dear brother.

 

“I fear Naraku will not give her the information I require from her. He is too clever. The best thing I can do for her is to give her a merciful death.”

 

Sango bowed her head. “And my brother. Would you give him a merciful death as well?”

 

“If he asked for it, but he has not. Kagura on the other hand has. I will see to it that she gets it.”

 

“You often confuse me, Sesshoumaru-sama. At times I think you are a harsh and cruel man, but then you prove me wrong.”

 

He wanted to tell her that at times he even confused himself, but he would not do so. She was not his confidant, though the thought of her being so quickly crossed his mind. Of all the people collected here, she was the most honorable and noble, except of course for his wife and she would not talk to him intimately to save her life right now. “All things serve a purpose,” he said instead, a variation on his I-don't-know-exactly-what-I-am-doing-or-saying generic answer. Leaning in he added, “Please tell no one I can be kind.”

 

Sango grinned and rose. “Say, would you care to spar?” she asked, turning around at the door. “I've lost my partners for the day.”

 

Sesshoumaru's still face gave the tiniest of grins. “Allow me to change. White does not do well in the dirt.” She left, heading outside once again.

 

He passed by Akanesuji's room on the way to his own, the door was laid open and he stepped inside. Looking around, he saw the two mantles laid in a pile. He gave a shiver, a memory of his drunkenness coming to the front. He still wasn't sure that thing had really looked at him.

 

Quickly turning on his heel he looked to the wall with the door. It was covered in Rin's drawings on rice paper. She had tacked them up with thorns, needles, pins and nails. He touched them, thinking about his little girl lost. He really should go get her, bring her back home. Maybe in the spring when the weather broke. Then the trip would not be so hard on her. It was already too cold now for her to travel. He frowned knowing he couldn't retrieve her. If he left the castle for too long, Akanesuji would probably run away and take Manatsu with her.

 

He changed into his simpler clothes and looked at himself in a great bronze mirror. The tighter sleeves betrayed his handicap, his arm still gone. Grabbing up a length of silk cording, he walked to the courtyard and found Sango. Humbly he asked her to braid his hair for him as they stood in the snow and mud. He held out the piece of red tie.

 

She blushed when she took it from him, not entirely understanding why he would ask her such a thing. It became clearer when he turned around and she spied the empty tight sleeve dangling in the wind. Pulling his silver strands into a pony tail and then dividing it into three sections she quickly made it into one long rope and tied it. “Your hair is so beautiful. I wish mine looked like yours,” she said absentmindedly. “Here, let me fix this too.” She grabbed the sleeve end and tucked it up inside itself so it wouldn't flop around.

 

It was a strangely intimate moment, one that made her blush afterwards and him freeze up and hide any trace of emotion. “I'm sorry,” she said, turning away. “I did not mean to touch you disrespectfully or remind you of it.”

 

“You were not disrespectful. I am afraid my scars are with me every day.”

 

“Mine too.”

 

“What scars could you possibly have? You are beautiful.”

 

She blushed even deeper at his compliment. It made her stomach flutter. He had told her this without any desire of getting her in bed, no pinch on the ass or random grope. “My lord, under this suit, I am quite ugly,” she said sadly. “Years of being a warrior have marred my flesh.”

 

He touched her shoulder, though he knew he shouldn't have. It was improper between men and women, and particularly between noble and commoner, though he called her “lady” all the time. “Is this why you yearn for one who will always be faithful?”

 

“Hai,” she confessed.

 

“Come, Lady Sango,” he said, dropping his hand to his side and feeling a tug at his heart. That same tug he got when he was around Kagura. The one of tenderness and pity combined with affection. He steeled himself from it. “Let us drown our sorrows in the heat of battle.”