InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Youkai and the Exterminator ❯ Chapter ThirtySeven ( Chapter 37 )

Chapter ThirtySeven

 

 

A cool wind whispered through the trees and stirred the demon lord's hair as he walked through the forest. His mind was still focused on his mate. His beautiful, brave human woman. Until he'd actually seen her with another man touching her, he hadn't realized how powerful his feelings had become. Sesshomaru wasn't inclined to dwell on his emotions.

 

As a youkai he was a practical creature, focused on the here and now. He was not an introspective man.

 

That didn't mean that he didn't have powerful instincts of his own. Anger like he'd never dreamed when he'd seen the monk kissing his mate, his youki had flared to life in an incandescent fury. Mine, it screamed. My mate, my child, mine! It demanded that he seize the pathetic human by this throat and throttle him for daring to touch what belonged to a demon lord.

 

He was still astonished that he'd let Miroku live.

 

No, he had been a fool. He had sent her away from him with hurtful words, as if everything they had said and done had never happened. He had been insulted that she cared more for her duty than for being his mate. It was his own fault that he now looked into her eyes and saw her distrust. Through ignorance, through pride, he had damaged something that was unique. In time he would take back what he had so thoughtlessly cast aside.

 

Sesshomaru smiled to himself, remembering her response to his touch. The fire of her youki-induced lust had been amazing. Sango continued to surprise him with her passion. Such a quiet woman, he liked that about her, the way she so carefully thought out everything she said. Usually women's talk was no more than meaningless babble to him, the prattling of vapid minds. At least that had been his experience with most of the highborn youkai females of the court.

 

Sango was different. Despite her human heritage she displayed a quick intellect and a wry wit that attracted him every bit as much as her loveliness. Combined with her skill in battle, she was an intoxicating temptation he could not resist. It amused him how easily he'd managed to put aside his irritation at her defiance. A daiyoukai grew accustomed to instant obedience from lesser demons; he had been unprepared to navigate the unknown waters of a human woman's mind and heart.

 

And he liked the fact that she didn't instantly bend to his will. He liked that she hadn't simply acquiesced to his demands.

 

She intrigued him; she challenged him and infuriated him. And he loved every minute of it and found his desire for her increasing with each passing second they were parted. Not that they would be parted for long, he had an obligation, a delicious obligation to soothe the demon blood that was increasing in her body.

 

Sesshomaru stopped, his senses instantly alert to something amiss in the forest. The scent of blood was thick in the air and it was blood that was known to him. He moved swiftly, following the scent while the pulse of anger built in his heart. He couldn't tell from the scent if the demon was still alive or just recently deceased.

 

Either way, he thought grimly, it does not matter. Tenseiga will not fail me.

 

The demon lord dropped lightly to the ground. Sesshomaru's eyes narrowed in slightly in anger and he carefully sniffed at the air, wanting to be sure that whatever had done this wasn't still in the area. It was not unheard of for traps to be laid as such, to leave a dead body out to attract your prey. He wasn't about to take the bait if that was the case. His father would be ashamed of him for falling for as simple a trick as that.

 

It seemed not to be the case. The youkai in front of him was badly wounded, but still breathing on his own and he could not detect the scent of the attacker in the air. Slowly, he approached, going to stand before the bleeding demon and speak to him in a voice that sounded icy in its indifference. In truth, Sesshomaru was neither cold nor indifferent to the situation at hand.

 

However, Barou would already know that.

 

"Are you able to move?"

 

Barou started at the sound of his cousin's voice, his eyes opened and he slowly lifted his head. Sesshomaru made no comment at the ravaging burns that covered the demon's face. Barou sighed heavily, relieved to see his cousin and not his attacker. "I can move."

 

"What happened?"

 

Barou smiled faintly, he was lucky to have escaped with his life, was now badly wounded and in considerable pain. And Sesshomaru wanted a report. Some things never changed. With a slight groan, he got to his feet. Sesshomaru's expression didn't flicker, but he saw that Barou's body was cut all over; long ragged claws marks had torn through his clothing.

 

"I was attacked, my lord," Barou told him, swaying slightly but otherwise holding his own. "I was coming back to the fortress to give you my report when it found me. I am embarrassed, my lord. I never felt his presence."

 

Barou staggered and Sesshomaru's arm shot to steady him. Carefully, he forced Barou back to the ground and knelt next to him. "What was it, Barou? Was it inuyoukai?"

 

"I'm not entirely sure," Barou told him, his voice tired. "I fought him, but I was trying to run from him at the same time. He didn't speak to me, but I could feel his mind trying to invade my own the entire time. I could feel his hunger for my blood, his insanity, and the darkness was overwhelming."

 

"You fought him off," Sesshomaru prompted. "How?" His loyal cousin was exhausted, but this was too important. He needed details, any that Barou could provide. Then he'd take him back to the fortress and make sure he healed from his wounds. After that, he'd hunt down the one responsible. It was time for vengeance; he could taste it in the air.

 

"I didn't fight him off, Sessh," Barou said quietly, too tired to remain formal with the man he'd known for years. "He wasn't in a hurry to kill me, so he took his time. Letting me run away, then hunting me down and striking without warning. I swear he was laughing at me, but every time I tried to look into his face..."

 

Barou's voice trailed off, his eyes closing. Sesshomaru gave his cousin a slight shake, a quick grip to his shoulder and Barou's eyes opened again. "Every time you tried to look into his face," Sesshomaru repeated.

 

The clanlord blinked, trying to focus his eyes. "It hurt," he whispered. "It was like something came at me, some kind of dark horror. I don't even think he was doing it on purpose. All I could see were his eyes. Like black flames and madness."

 

"The monster is insane," Sesshomaru said quietly. It was as he suspected. Whatever Naraku had created, it was not perfected by any means. It was incomplete, misguided and lost, a raging terror set loose without control. How very like Naraku.

 

"I must take you back to the fortress," the youkai lord said at last. Sesshomaru stood, preparing to help Barou up again, but to his surprise, the other demon resisted.

 

"You don't have time, Sessh," Barou said urgently, seeming to grow stronger now that he'd managed to speak of the horror that had almost befallen him.

 

"What do you mean?"

 

Barou looked grim, his burned cheeks dark with oozing blood. "He was about to kill me, whatever he was. And someone came to stop him. It said to leave me be, there was other work that needed doing."

 

Sesshomaru inexplicably felt a cold chill rising up his spine. He rarely felt any kind of fear, but this sensation had the hint of dread. He could well guess who had appeared to lure the monster away. None other than its creator.

 

"He wore some kind of pelt so I didn't see his face," Barou continued, not noticing Sesshomaru's reflective expression. "The wild demon didn't want to go with him, but the other insisted that I was worthless, not his target. He said there was more pleasant game to be found in the forest."

 

The dread was increasing and Sesshomaru sat perfectly still. More pleasant? Game? What was Naraku working at, what were his true intentions? "Barou," he said at last. "You said you were coming to report to me before you were attacked. What did you find?"

 

"I was coming to tell you that the monster was making for the fortress," Barou said, his voice hitching briefly in pain. He reached up and gingerly touched his face. The crazed inuyoukai had attacked him with claws, long black claws that reeked of poison. And then he'd struck him with a fiery blast of energy, one that smelled of sulfur and ate into his skin like acid.

 

"I was wrong," Barou said softly. "He's not after you anymore. I'm guessing that whatever had made the fortress an attractive target is gone. I heard him instructing the monster to head south instead of west and wait. I don't know what is in the forest that he'd find so interesting."

 

Sesshomaru knew. He knew it had been a mistake to let her leave with the others, especially in the company of his fool of a brother. Of course Naraku had been waiting for them to leave the fortress. Why else would he have sent his puppet to throw the wolf demon down like a challenge? Why else direct his creation to attack human villages? He was goading Inuyasha into leaving the fortress, to take his small band of companions into the forest where they were easy prey for a nightstalking horror that could undo a youkai of even Barou's strength.

 

"Can you make it back without assistance?" he asked his injured cousin in a voice that was frozen with a lack of emotion.

 

"Yes," Barou answered. "I can if I move slowly." He looked up at Sesshomaru, unsurprised that he wasn't going to take him back to the safety of the fortress. "You're going after it, aren't you?"

 

Sesshomaru raised his eyes to the sky. In the company of his stupid hanyou brother, a rather naive priestess, and a lecherous excuse for a monk, his pregnant mate was walking right into a trap. At least he'd had the foresight to send Jano to watch over her.

 

But it was not Jano's mate who was in danger. It was his. Without another word to Barou, Sesshomaru disappeared into the forest, moving so quickly that even Barou could barely see him go.

 

Sighing, the clanlord leaned back against the tree. He needed to rest before trying to make his way back to safety. Again, he felt the scorch marks on his face. They stung, but they would heal and probably not even scar. The smell was hauntingly familiar, which struck him as odd. Not very many youkai were known for having toxic, corrosive youki at their disposal. It was a rare trait and hereditary.

 

In fact, the only two he'd ever known to use such powers were Sesshomaru and his father, Inutaisho. Puzzling.

 

Then, thinking on the subject of his lord's family, Barou suddenly groaned and decided to make his way as quick as possible to the fortress. Not only for getting help with his injuries, he wanted to be conscious when Sesshomaru returned.

 

"Damn you, Sessh," Barou muttered as he started to walk. "You didn't give me a chance to tell you about Naota."

 

oOo

 

Kohaku held onto Rin's waist for dear life and hoped that the young girl knew what she was doing. The wind was tearing through his hair and beneath them the trees moved at a completely nauseating speed. It brought back memories of the times that Kagura had transported him on her feather, although usually those memories were dim and hazy. Under Naraku's control, he had felt a kind of bliss, fatefulness as he'd flown through the air like a helplessly doomed bird.

 

Now his legs tried to clench convulsively on the demi-dragon's back. Rin didn't seem to have any problem keeping her balance, holding the great creature's reins with an airy lack of concern. The dragon's back was too wide for him to feel secure, no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't get used to it.

 

"Do you know where you're going?" he shouted over the wind.

 

Rin didn't look back. "Of course not," she answered cheerfully. "I don't know where your sister is. You just said head south, so we're heading south."

 

Great, Kohaku thought and forced himself to not look down again. They could fly right over Sango and her friends and never know it. All he knew was what he'd overheard from Jano talking to the guards. He'd said that Inuyasha wanted to find the village that the wolf demon said had been destroyed. It was somewhat south and somewhat west but of course he didn't know the exact location. He knew about how far Sango could have traveled in a few days time. That was all they had to go on.

 

"Maybe we should go down," he shouted in Rin's ear. Oh please, gods, let's get back on the ground.

 

"Okay!" the girl shouted back at him. He didn't know what she did but the demi-dragon started to descend. Kohaku's stomach was deeply grateful and he was particularly glad he hadn't embarrassed himself by throwing up all over her.

 

Ah Un touched down gently in a small clearing. Now that he was safely on the ground again, Kohaku felt despair creeping over him. How was he to find Sango in time? His father's ghost had seemed to think she was in immediate danger. When would Sesshomaru strike? Would he attempt to gain Sango's trust again or would he just sneak up on her in the night? Why had he ever trusted a youkai? His father had taught them both better than that!

 

Rin turned back to face him as the demi-dragon started his slow, lumbering walk. "Maybe we should try to find that village first?" she suggested brightly. "Sango-sama and her friends might be there."

 

Kohaku shrugged. "I guess we could try."

 

She looked at him seriously, her small hands folded in her lap. "Kohaku-kun, please don't worry. She will be fine. Sesshomaru-sama would never let anything bad happen to his mate."

 

He shivered, ashamed of what he was keeping from her. What would Rin say if she knew it was Sesshomaru-sama he had to protect his sister from? The girl would be heartbroken at the betrayal of her adored guardian.

 

"Rin," he said at last. "Why did Sesshomaru-sama save you? As a pure youkai, I didn't think he cared if humans lived or died. But he saved you with Tenseiga and keeps you with him. I don't understand."

 

The girl blinked at him. Although she had wondered about the subject much herself over the past two years, no one had ever asked her. "Rin isn't sure," she said, reverting to the childlike way of speaking that she adopted when she was troubled.

 

"When I first saw Sesshomaru-sama, he was injured and unable to move. I wanted to help him."

 

"Why?" the boy persisted. "Why would you want to help a demon, Rin? Weren't you scared of him at all?"

 

She swallowed. "Yes," she said in a tiny voice. "I was scared, but I was curious too. He was so pretty, I knew he was a demon but I couldn't stop myself from trying to help him. I ...didn't have anyone else to take care of, Kohaku. I was all alone."

 

Strange, he thought, that an orphaned human girl would try to adopt a powerful youkai. Simply because she found him pretty. "That was dangerous," he said.

 

She nodded. "He told me to go away, he didn't want my help. I didn't care; I kept trying to bring him things anyway. The people in the village weren't kind to me. I guess I was just lonely."

 

It made a strange kind of sense, a little girl that was cast out by humans, finding a youkai in the forest that she wanted to save. How lonely she must have been to do that. Kohaku understood loneliness. He understood being the outsider. What she couldn't have known, and still didn't know, was that Sesshomaru couldn't return her feelings. Kohaku felt sure that the youkai lord couldn't really care about Rin. He wasn't capable of feeling love or affection.

 

Whatever had moved Sesshomaru to save the little girl, he couldn't be sure. He didn't know how youkai felt or what would move a cold demon to such an act of mercy. Maybe one day he'd turn on Rin as well, as he had turned on Sango. Maybe because they were only humans and not worthy of his emotions in the first place.

 

"Rin, let's stop," he said suddenly.

 

The girl put her hand on one of the sinuous necks and clucked her tongue. The demi-dragon stopped immediately, turning to nudge her affectionately with one of its great heads. The other dropped to the ground and started rooting around for something edible in the tall grasses. Kohaku heard a tiny squeak and then the placid sound of chomping jaws. Flying must be hungry work.

 

He slid off the side of the tall back and looked up at her. "I think I should go alone from here," he said in a voice that asked for no argument.

 

"Why?" she wanted to know, dropping into the tall grass beside him. "We still need to find..."

 

"I'll find her on my own," he said coldly. He wasn't ready to see Rin be betrayed. Whatever Sesshomaru planned on doing to Sango, he was sure he didn't want Rin to know about it. And if Kohaku had to fight to defend his sister's life, he didn't think he could do it with Rin looking on.

 

"Kohaku," she said, her voice pleading. "You need my help."

 

"No, I don't." He saw hurt in her enormous eyes and felt hideously guilty. "Look," he said lamely. "I don't want you to get in trouble. Sesshomaru-sama will be angry that you left the fortress without his permission. You should go back before he finds out."

 

She just looked at him. "He'll find out anyway," she said, her voice stubborn. "Jaken will tell him, or Makiko. They've probably found out we're missing and are looking for us now. It won't hurt if I come with you."

 

"And," she added importantly. "Ah Un can protect us. They'd never let anything happen to me so we will be useful!"

 

"I don't want you to come with me!" he snapped. If the only way to make her go were to make her angry, he would have to do it. "I'm a demon slayer, Rin. I can take care of myself. I don't need a little girl tagging along."

 

Her eyes filled with tears. "But Kohaku..."

 

"I said go home! Go back to the fortress and stay there, Rin! I don't need you."

 

He turned and stomped away, feeling her eyes burning holes in his back. "Fine!" she screamed, her voice full of wounds that he had caused. "I don't need you either!"

 

Kohaku flinched when he heard her start crying and steeled himself against it. Better that she's angry, better that she's hurt now instead of later when I have to confront him. I don't want her to see me when I have to fight him.

 

Rin continued to cry for a few moments, wetting the dragon's hide with her tears. Stupid boy, she thought. He thinks that he's the only one that can do anything. It was just like at the fortress, when Makiko wouldn't let her do what she wanted. It was just like when Jaken kept her from following Sesshomaru-sama.

 

He doesn't need a silly little girl following him around!

 

The toad's words came back to her and Rin felt tiniest bit of resentment building inside her heart. Stupid Jaken. Stupid Kohaku. They both thought that she couldn't do anything. That she was just a useless little kid.

 

Well, Jaken wasn't here right now and neither was Makiko. She could do what she wanted and Rin was going to do just that.

 

"Go home," she whispered to the demi-dragon. AhUn's left head gave her a doubtful look while the right head nosed her feet. She patted them both evenly, knowing that he liked it when she gave both sets of heads equal attention.

 

"You go home, Ah Un. I'm going to follow Kohaku myself."

 

oOo

 

Inuyasha sat in a tree and sulked. At least that's what Kagome would call it, he was pretty sure. He just needed some time to think, some time by himself, and now that he'd had it he wasn't sure they weren't all too right about him.

 

He was being an asshole.

 

His ears flattened on his head when he admitted it to himself and he was tempted to try and convince himself he should still be angry. He was right, wasn't he? Sango was being an idiot by screwing Sesshomaru again, just like she'd been an idiot to do it the first time. He'd honestly thought that affair would have been dead a long time ago. After all, who better than to judge what kind of bastard Sesshomaru really was than his own brother?

 

But the more he thought about it, the worse he started to feel. He had a problem with Sesshomaru, but it was Sango who'd born the brunt of his anger. If he should be cursing out anyone it was his brother, not the woman who'd fought beside him for years and risked her life for his more times than he cared to count.

 

Same for Miroku. The monk had always been easy going, difficult to anger. But he'd seen real disgust in Miroku's eyes when he'd let his tongue loose on Sango for her indiscretions. Hell, the monk should be every bit as pissed as he was, why didn't he snap and lash out? He was the one who'd almost had his head torn off, not Inuyasha.

 

Maybe Miroku was just more mature about some things. For a lecherous bastard, he sure seemed to be able to put his own feelings aside, even after an attack like that. Inuyasha knew he wouldn't have been able to do the same. He would have shoved Sango to the side and run off after Sesshomaru's blood. That prick really deserved a trip down Miroku's wind tunnel for what he'd done to Sango.

 

And what about you, a little voice in his mind said. You probably deserve worse than that. Why don't you admit what's really bothering you?

 

It sounded suspiciously like something Kagome would say. He even gave a quick glance down at the ground to make sure it actually hadn't been her. Nothing was there and he sat back feeling a little disappointed. He wanted to talk to Kagome about it; sometimes talking to her was the only thing that could help him make sense of things. He needed her to listen to him, talk to him, hold his hands with her tiny ones and smile at him. Then he'd know that everything was really all right and he didn't have to be angry.

 

She'd always been able to do that for him. Was that what love meant? He'd thought he'd loved Kikyou once, been confused by the way she made him feel. She'd offered him a chance to give up on being an outsider, become a human and her husband. Now he wondered if either of them would have been happy. That dreamed of life seemed a long time ago.

 

That's because it was a long time ago, idiot, he told himself. Remember the bastard that stole it from you. He's still out there, playing his games. You don't have time to worry about what your stupid brother is doing. If Sango wants to keep screwing him after what he pulled back at the fortress, that's her problem. Not yours. If she's stupid enough to really love him...

 

Could Sesshomaru even love her back? Inuyasha scratched his head and thought about it. Love was something he associated with humans, human feelings, and human emotions. He could feel them, but he was half human. Sesshomaru was pure youkai, what did he feel about her? It had to be more than just sex or he wouldn't have called her his mate in the first place. He definitely wouldn't have wanted her to have his child if he was just fucking her.

 

That's what really bothers you, isn't it Inuyasha? The Kagome-voice was talking to him again and he growled in the back of his throat.

 

What do I care if he has a damn kid, he thought sullenly.

 

Because the baby is going to be a hanyou, the Kagome-voice said reasonably. If Sesshomaru thinks enough of Sango to have a baby with her, it means that he doesn't hate humans as much as he's always said he did.

 

Inuyasha scowled, folding his arms over his chest and one foot kicking restlessly at the leaves of the tree he sat in. He didn't like where the little voice was going with this one.

 

Maybe it was just you that he really hated.

 

"I don't care what that bastard thinks of me," he snarled at last, angry enough to speak out loud.

 

Don't you?

 

"No."

 

Liar.

 

Enough of this shit, Inuyasha thought in disgust. It was giving him a headache. And he didn't want to think about his brother anymore. It didn't matter, it was in the past. It was over a long, long time ago. He hadn't needed Sesshomaru to take care of him. His brother's unlove, never mind his active hatred, had defined their relationship and he sure as hell didn't want to start trying to think of him in any other way now.

 

Inuyasha jumped down from his branch and started back to the camp. He wasn't going to be a bastard like Sesshomaru; he had learned a couple things over the years. He'd learned them from Kagome, Miroku, and Sango. Sometimes Shippou even. He had learned that when you do or say something stupid and hurt people who didn't deserve it, you should say you're sorry. And if you meant it when you said it, you might even feel better.

 

He had to apologize to them.

 

Ears drooping, Inuyasha made his way back to his friends. Hopefully they were still speaking to him, he didn't know what he'd do if they didn't accept the apology. In his heart, he knew they would, but the fear of rejection he'd carried all his life wasn't easy to shake. Firmly, he resolved to do better. Sango and Miroku had stood by him through the worst moments of his life. They deserved as much from him.

 

But there was no way in hell he was apologizing to Jano. Hell. No.

 

When he reached the camp, he stopped and sniffed the air. Something was wrong here, terribly wrong. Miroku and Sango were sitting on the ground, each of them holding a bowl in their hands. Their faces were pale and slightly green, both the monk and the exterminator looked like they'd been given their last meals and were not expecting to see the sunrise.

 

Jano was standing next to the fire, a large spoon in one hand and a desolate expression on his normally jovial face.

 

"Oh come on," the inuyoukai said, a pleading note in his voice that Inuyasha had never heard before. "You have to at least try it!"

 

Miroku swallowed hard and reached up to tenderly touch the bruised skin around his throat. "I do apologize, Jano-san," he said, managing to sound regretful if not sincere. "I fear my throat is still quite swollen. Your...stew...is most tempting but I dare not try to eat just yet."

 

Inuyasha didn't miss the suspicious look that Sango gave the monk or the way that her mouth had tightened until her lips were almost white. Jano gave her a hopeful look. "How about you, Sango?"

 

"I'm not really hungry right now," she murmured. Inuyasha stared hard at her; he could swear the exterminator was trying very hard not to inhale through her nose. Experimentally, he sniffed the air. He'd smelled something like that before, but he couldn't quite place it. Definitely not noodles, he decided.

 

Jano wasn't giving up easily. "It's very nutritious," he said in a wheedling voice. "I know it's not quite like human stew, but I swear it's good for your baby."

 

Pressured, Sango took a deep breath through her mouth. "Very well, Jano-san," she said bravely. "If you say so, I will try it."

 

Inuyasha's mouth dropped open slightly as Sango lifted a bite of steaming, not quite edible looking stew to her lips and took a tiny taste. Her face instantly flushed, then paled, then flushed again and she dropped the bowl on the ground and scrambled for the bushes.

 

Jano looked absolutely crushed. With a downcast face, he went to pick up the remains of Miroku and Sango's rejected meals. Inuyasha stared at the faintly greenish glop that had spilled on the ground. Was it food or not? His nose wasn't giving him any help either way.

 

Miroku smiled and tried to console the unhappy inuyoukai. "I'm sure it's not your cooking," he said mildly. "Pregnant women have delicate stomachs, perhaps Sango has not yet adjusted to what she can tolerate."

 

"She's been throwing up a lot lately," Shippou put in brightly. "Since she's been sick, she probably would have thrown up your stew even if it tasted really good!"

 

"You're not helping," Miroku told him. "If you want to make him feel better, you can eat it. I haven't seen you asking for a bowl, Shippou."

 

The kitsune looked nervous. "I'm not hungry."

 

Inuyasha snorted. "Since when?" he demanded. "You're a bottomless pit."

 

"Takes one to know one," Shippou answered snidely. "Hey, you can eat it, Inuyasha!"

 

The hanyou flattened his ears on his head. "I'm not eating anything he made!"

 

Jano glared at him. "Believe me, I know how to poison people. As a matter of fact, I'm really good at it. If I chose to poison you, Inuyasha, it wouldn't be an accident!"

 

"That's what I'm afraid of," Inuyasha muttered. He found a bowl was suddenly shoved in his hands and Jano was scowling in a decidedly threatening manner.

 

"Then try it. Unless you're too scared."

 

He couldn't back down from a challenge, not even if it meant his life. And in this case, there was more than his life at stake. Inuyasha did not relish the idea of joining Sango in the bushes. With a growl, he grabbed the bowl that had been shoved at him and downed most of the contents in one big swallow.

 

Miroku and Shippou stared at him in awe as he stood waiting for something awful to happen. He licked his lips and blinked in surprise. It wasn't that bad, in fact, it tasted pretty damned good. Grinning, he shoveled the rest of the stew into his mouth and then held out the bowl. "More," he demanded.

 

"Are you insane?" Miroku burst out. "That stuff smells like vomit!"

 

"I thought your throat hurt, houshi," Jano said suspiciously. Miroku blushed and muttered something about his sense of smell being off due to his damaged throat. Jano looked like he didn't buy it for a minute.

 

"I'm serious," Inuyasha said, sounding enthusiastic. "It smells a little sick, but once you get used to it, it tastes pretty damn good!"

 

"Better than noodles?" Shippou asked.

 

Well, he wouldn't go that far. "Nah, but it's better than the crap that Miroku usually makes."

 

"I don't have to sit here and be insulted," the monk grumbled.

 

"Not when you can sit and eat," Jano growled. He put a fresh bowl in front of Miroku and squatted down to watch him. "Eat it," he ordered, flexing his claws. "If it kills you, I will personally see that you get an honorable burial."

 

oOo

 

Kohaku pushed his way through the forest, struggling against the thick underbrush. He was sweating heavily although the air was quite cool. He told himself that he'd been lazy; he hadn't been training or even trying to train since he'd been freed from Naraku. He was just getting soft that was all.

 

Father would be ashamed of him.

 

He'd never wanted to be a demon exterminator, never mind that it was the family vocation. He'd always felt like he had no choice, but he didn't want to let his father and Sango down either. It was so important for them and they were both so good at it. It seemed like they expected him to be good at it too.

 

His mother had died giving birth to him. Kohaku had never known her face, her voice, but father always said that Sango looked just like her. She had also been a strong fighter, but she had a difficult time bearing her children. Once, he had overheard one of his aunts talking to another, saying how his mother had suffered several miscarriages between his and Sango's births. Boys weren't supposed to know about such things and he'd blushed hard at the idea that anyone might find out he knew.

 

It was his fault she'd died, his birth that had killed her. It seemed sometimes to Kohaku that he was always going to be associated with death and dying. Even being born into the world, he had taken a life. Then he'd felt like he was letting them down by not being good enough, not as fast or as strong as they were. Even when he trained as hard as he knew how, trained until his clothing stuck to his body with sweat, he'd wondered if he'd ever be good at anything.

 

Then Naraku had taken him.

 

And then suddenly he was good at something, far too good. His hands were steady on the blade when he couldn't feel fear, didn't understand remorse. Everything he loved or cared about was stripped away, torn out of his heart by sharp claws. Without emotions or memories to hold him back, he became death itself. Naraku forced him to kill, over and over and over, forced him to like it, to feel a thrill when the blade struck home and marvel at the perfection of his aim.

 

It was a blissful thing, to not have a conscience. He became the blade, became the blood, and became the chain that threw his prey to their knees. Over and over, it never ended. He just did as he was told, no, it was more than that. He was the tool, only the tool that Naraku used to execute his prey. Tools didn't have to think, weapons didn't have to cry themselves to sleep. The blade felt no pity, no whisper of love. It was only what it was and what it was used to do.

 

Then he'd seen her face. And the blade had started to crack. The steel had weak points, corrosive rust of memory ate at the polished surface and Kohaku started to remember. At first he didn't know why, he was too scared to even think of it. So he'd held her face in a secret place of his heart, a place that even Naraku didn't know about. He went about Naraku's business as he was told, performed as the perfect, mindless tool.

 

It was the only way he could protect Sango, to pretend she didn't exist.

 

That didn't work anymore. He had to be better, be stronger. There was no way he was going to let her die or ever be hurt again.

 

His father's voice whispered in his mind, calling his name and guiding him. He stopped and closed his eyes, breathing hard, his heart pounding in his chest. If only it wasn't so hot, if only he could just rest for a bit. But he didn't have time to rest.

 

Kohaku changed direction and plunged into thorny bushes, not caring if he was scratched. He hacked at the thick brush with his blade, determined to tear his way through. Just a few more steps, he told himself and the voice in the back of his mind urged him on. His sister wasn't far, he could feel it.

 

Stumbling, he finally freed himself from the brush and looked around in surprise. There was small clearing in the forest, almost if it had been prepared for him to find it. Kohaku blinked in pure confusion, wiping his sweaty face with the back of his fist. He'd been sure Sango was here somewhere, the voice had been so sure. He'd felt the magnetic pull of her presence, the image of her burning ever brighter in his mind. Why had it brought him here, if there was no Sango for him to find?

 

"Kohaku."

 

That voice was not in his head. For all he was unbearably hot, Kohaku felt his spine go cold in dread. He didn't want to do this, not right now. He just wanted to find his sister and look at her face, know that she was all right. That was all he wanted.

 

He turned slowly, his eyes on the ground. The voice was low, soft and cool, irresistible and fatal as the blade that hung loosely in his hand. He raised his chin and looked the demon in the eye.

 

Sesshomaru smiled at him, a cruel twist to his mouth. "Have you been looking for me, Kohaku?"