InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ This Sesshoumaru Needs Not A Mate - ON HOLD ❯ PART TWENTY-FOUR ( Chapter 24 )

 

DISCLAIMER - The ownership and general brilliance that is the original Feudal Fairy Tale remains the property of its honored and rightfully revered creator Rumiko Takahashi without whose brilliance we would not have fodder.

 

Mature: Sexual content, you have been warned.

 

Edited by: Meara the Celt

 

All quotations are from the realized being, Lao-tzu (604 BC - 531 BC) who wrote `The Tao Te Ching'.

 

Reviews are fuel.

 

EP

 

Japanese Phrases/Words Used In Part Twenty-Four

 

Aramitama - Courage

 

Nigimitama - Friendship

 

Kushimitama - Wisdom

 

Sakimitama - Love

 

Otooji - parent's younger brother, uncle

 

Tansu - An Armoire/Chest

 

Part Twenty-Four - This Sesshoumaru Needs Not A Mate

 

He tasted of cherries, it was her singular thought. Who knew the Western Lord favored the ripe fruit? Sesshoumaru had left her in the Lily garden for less than a few minutes, to her mind. The Lord had decided, out of a need for a little bloodless passive aggression, not to arrive in the timely fashion his brother had requested. `It is his shiro after all.'

 

Instead, Kagome lay wrapped luxuriantly in his mokomoko-sama on the mossy bank in the seventh garden. She was presented with a bowl of freshly washed cherries, but not before a stolen kiss from those lips destined to be her perpetual undoing.

 

“Sesshoumaru, we should go,” moaned the Miko in recline, as masculine tapered fingers undid her obi deftly. Her own fingers reciprocated, unfastening his armor, and made short work of his wafuku. The ripened fruits forgotten, spilled from the bowl, rolled down the mossy bank to lay dejectedly around the stone lantern.

 

Velvety warmth with a hint of moisture touched her sensitive mark and sharp fangs bit into her neck as her eyes closed in rapture. The soft winds in the Lily garden caressed her naked skin and that of the Western Lord, as they moved in unison. The sound of flesh meeting flesh, moan upon moan, ecstatic cries carried on the wind, as they took possession of what Naraku had tried to steal unsuccessfully.

 

A trickle of dark blood remained at the corner of the miko's mouth as she looked up at her mate, who lapped at his own vital essence escaping her lips. Their mingled tastes refueled internal fires.

 

Kagome smiled languidly up at the magnificent male above her, pushing him gently with her hips, indicating her need to adjust to a new position. He complied without a sound, his deep garnet gaze never leaving hers.

 

Her scent, and the fruition of their previous coupling, was evident as she presented herself most vulnerably, head laying on her arms in the verdant moss. Her decidedly feminine, curved rear was now in his face, moist, ready and in supplication, awaiting her mate's evident desire.

 

A series of nips to her reddened backside, and the gentle grazing of his fangs to each butt cheek was his answer of pleasure, along with a deep sensual growl, before he positioned himself behind her, his abdominal muscles taut, pulling her hips to meet his girth.

 

Sesshoumaru slid, by degree, into her more than accepting challis. His breath caught as it always did, feeling the welcoming, moist, deliciously restrictive grip of his bitch and hearing her equally soft moans of pleasurable surrender. He would never tire of this sensation or her responsiveness to his every touch. She gave of herself with equal fervor as he moved his hips, slowly at first, bracing her with his clawed hands, adjusting his rhythm to their mutual need for completion.

 

Kagome moaned, biting into her forearm as he ground his hips into her sensually, her breasts swaying with the building cadence and force of their lust.

 

“Mmmm…harder…” panted the Miko, breathlessly, while reaching one hand between her legs, caressing her engorged nub.

 

The sudden feel of her hair used as a rein, was new. She felt her head pulled back by a strong hand and the utterance of deep bestial grunts, as he began to drive into her mindlessly, like what he was; a male in rut.

 

“Yeeessss! Oooooh Sesshoumaru, yeeeeeeeeeeessssssss!” the Miko screamed in a trancelike state,. The tempo of his thrusts increased, propelling her closer to the edge, her inner muscles tightening in anticipation of imminent release.

 

 

“Come for me, Bitch,” commanded a deep, feral, baritone hoarsely, as he continued to slam into her with demonic force.

 

It might have been the searing heat of his body, perhaps his heightened musky scent, or the sensual feel of his silken tendrils against her hot skin, or that combined with his fangs piercing her neck, locking her in place. Whatever it was, the Miko came, forcing his descent into inexorable bliss. He filled her to overflowing, hot cum trickling down her silken thighs. The Taiyoukai roared for all to hear within the honmaru, as he came in answer to her heated unrelenting grip. She was his.

 

 

sks

 

 

“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength; loving someone deeply gives you courage.”

 

 

 

A taut thigh moved sensually against a receptive lithe male, making an unspoken request as old as time. The sounds of a sated inuyoukai male and his more than satisfied bitch came on the wind, interrupting a priest and a slayer, in the Tea garden, locking lips.

 

Miroku kissed the taijiya's forehead, easing himself off her reluctantly, but not quickly enough, as shocked amber eyes looking down at the scene that greeted him with marked displeasure and blushing cheeks.

 

“What the hell is going on in this place?! First Lord Hot Pants, now you two?!”

 

“Jealousy will get you nowhere, Inuyasha. What is it you want? Sango and I were merely… talking,” said the priest with a smug look and a raised dark brow. The taijiya attempted to get up, but a gentle hand to her abdomen, requested she stay. Looking up into violet eyes, guarded soft brown ones acquiesced without the usual protestations.

 

“You call that talking?! I'm amazed neither of you vapor locked! The damn wolf is the only one in the study, near comatose, with Tatsuo. I had to lug him there and probably have to carry him back to his chamber. He's pretty useless in his current state. I came lookin' when they didn't show. I should have dragged him out by his dick, now look what's happened!?  They're outside in the damn Lily garden going at it like they're in…,” Inuyasha stopped mid sentence, as innocent sun-kissed amber grew large in sudden realization.

 

 

“Heat?” offered Sango, readjusting herself into a seated position, demurely folding her legs and fussing with her ponytail, while prettily blushing. Had Inuyasha not appeared, who knows what would have happened. She needed to speak with Kagome, and soon.

 

Miroku lewdly smiled as he ogled Sango's breasts. His eyes then slowly traveled to her lips, then her eyes, surprised to find no vehemence reproof in them, but instead, shy acceptance and tentative want.

 

“Leave them for now, Inuyasha. I don't think it advisable at this juncture to `interrupt'. Neither of them would take it well. We will meet, just a little later than scheduled. Learn patience, my friend. Have you any idea what they have both gone through? Have you given no thought to Naraku's true intent?” said Miroku, the lecherous smile gone, replaced by a serious, angry expression.

 

“What the fuck!? Naraku could be approaching for all we know. We need to sort shit right now and he is off slippin' it to her like nothing is going on!? She isn't any better. He's gonna have to muzzle her!”

 

Sango stood and approached her irritated friend with a sympathetic look.

 

“He's right, Inuyasha. Give them some privacy. Yes, I believe Sesshoumaru-sama is in heat. If you approached either himself or his mate, however good your intentions, he would more than likely kill you without a second thought. Instinctively his beast will perceive you as a threat to their union, especially with your past history with Kagome. He is not thinking rationally at the moment.”

 

“Feh! I can take him…” retorted the hanyou in a gruff defensive tone, not quite as sure of his righteous indignation anymore. What they said was probably true and it wasn't just Sesshoumaru's scent that was different, it was more than arousal and it was coming from Kagome as well.

 

sks

 

“In the world there is nothing more submissive and weak than water. Yet for attacking that which is hard and strong nothing can surpass it.”

 

 

A tentative tap at the fusuma that lead to the Taiyoukai's private hot spring signaled Sango's arrival.

 

Kagome turned at the sound, fully realizing, who it was, with a smile playing about her lips. She could scent her for the first time and evidence of Miroku's own essence for that matter. `Hn, things are heating up with those two, finally.' she thought with a pleased expression. Her own muscles fatigued, not to mention somewhat sore in parts best left unmentioned.

 

“Come, Sango.”

 

The taijiya's beautiful, tanned face came around the wooden sliding frame, looking about the room for the Western Lord. Finding him absent, she came in fully, sliding the door closed with a sheepish smile.

 

Sango was not far wrong in her original assumption as to the Taiyoukai's whereabouts. He had hurriedly dressed and left only minutes before on some undisclosed mission within the castle.

 

Kagome's face was somewhat shrouded in mist, but Sango could still see the peaceful tired smile on her friend's face. `Damn, he mustbe good.'

 

“Care to join me? I won't be long. I know how you hate long baths,” anticipated her friend, the Miko, with a broad grin and a wink.

 

The taijiya smiled despite the awkwardness of the scene, Kagome's manner had been unexpectedly relaxed and the slayer's own trepidation eased in turn. Why not, after all, when was she going to get such an opportunity again to luxuriate in such a fine spring?

 

Efficiently, Sango undressed and gingerly sat opposite her de-facto sister and friend,. She enjoyed the soothing warmth of the spring, while taking in her surroundings, awestruck at its studied, simplistic beauty. The outer courtyard that overlooked the centermost garden featuring an unparalleled view of the moonbridge and the pond filled with rare koi and strategically aligned lilies.

 

“How did your trip go, Sango? Was it fruitful?” asked the Miko conversationally.

 

This question came out of left field for the Taijiya who secretly coveted a different start to the conversation; something a little more personal. She needed advise on how best to handle Miroku and her feelings.

 

Taking Kagome's lead, she answered as truthfully as she could, not yet having all the facts, while reaching for the bar of soap. She hated soaking endlessly, unlike Kagome who could do this for hours. It served no purpose and was woefully inefficient and indulgent to her warrior's mind.

 

“I returned to the village as promised and managed to find in the burnt out storehouse the secret passageway that lead to the healer's dwelling. Of course, it was broken into, the ashes were everywhere, but amidst all that, a few tattered scrolls remained that held ancient spells. One in part spoke of the creation of Hiraikotsu and its maker. Naraku was mentioned by name, Kagome.”

 

Silence followed the revelation, as the Miko worried her lower lip, deep in thought, before bowing her head for her friend to continue.

 

The Taijiya continued to scrub while talking, “The parchment was burned and covered in soot, barely readable. It was so fragile parts came away in my hands as I read. From what I could gather, under the right circumstances, it can absorb some of Naraku's life energy, weakening him. Apparently, it can be used against him in combination with something else. I could not decipher what, since most of the kanji wasn't readable unfortunately. It isn't much, but it might aid us in battle.”

 

“Did it say exactly who had made it originally? Isn't it made of the living bone of an ancient youkai?” said the Miko, brows furrowed as she came to sit next to the slayer. She got another of those peculiar tugs in her stomach. `This sounded eerily familiar, but why?' She and the tachi had only accompanied Sango once to the decimated village, to help bury the dead and seek clues to Naraku's hiding place at the time.'

 

Sango abruptly stopped, turning to face her friend with a strange light in her eyes. “You know something, until now, I did not make the connection, but further down on the same scroll a few characters remained. It spoke of the being called Akago and further down the Seven Treasures that lay hidden. Nothing else remained.”

 

Kagome's stomach fluttered again at the reference to the Seven Treasures. She knew Shippou's name meant just that. She bit her lower lip, in sudden trepidation. `Sesshoumaru needs to know this.'

 

Moving closer still to her friend, Kagome took up the Western Lord's usual position, looking at her friend below damp bangs, as Sango inefficiently attempted to scrub her mid-back.

 

Taking the sponge from her friend, she began gently making circles across the well-toned muscled with an awed expression. `Sango has no idea how gorgeous she is.'

 

Kagome chuckled, “Damn woman, you're beautiful and totally ripped. I wish I had your body. I'd kill for your build. No wonder Miroku loves you. You are perfect.” said the Miko, in a complimentary tone.

 

Sango smiled shyly, turning to face her friend with hope in her eyes. “You mean `lusts' Kagome, not love. There is a difference.”

 

A dreamy look came over the Miko's face then. “True, but equally, what a wicked combination it is when you have both and I think you do, given half the chance.” said the Miko, quietly.

 

The slayer's back muscles tensed then eased just as quickly, turning again to look at her friend with one quirked brow and what passed for a near lecherous grin. “You, Higurashi Kagome, happen to be one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. Your body is exquisite. There is a reason they all fall for you.”

 

Kagome took on the color of a beet and shyly looked away from the slayer. “Stop it. We sound like a mutual admiration society, but thanks.” said the Miko, who took up the sponge and continued to scrub her friend's back meditatively, as the Taijiya's torso shook. Kagome soon realized she was laughing. Poking her with one index finger to the ribs, Sango sputtered and a near lecherous grin reappeared on her face.

 

Kagome glowered at her playfully, “Well? What is it? Tell me before I tickle you till you pee,” said the Miko with feigned menace.

 

Sango sniffed prettily then furtively looked at her friend, gagging her mood, before speaking. “I don't think Lord Sesshoumaru would want you any other way. He `apparently' loves you passionately just as you are, my friend.”

 

The Priestess snorted, “Pervert! I am surrounded by perverts!” and tried to look indignant, then began blushing ten shades of pink as reality hit. `They all heard. Oh Kami! I can never show my face anywhere in the shiro again.'

 

Sango chuckled at Kagome's horrified expression. Being intrinsically a private woman who could empathize, she took pity on her friend and decided to return to the subject at hand; the Hiraikotsu's origins in the slayer village.

 

“I know it is not much, but at least it is a start. Maybe together we can all figure it out? That vast library of scrolls the Taishou Clan has collected for near on a thousand years might prove helpful.”

 

Glad for the reprieve, Kagome smiled, handing Sango the shampoo, deep in thought. Sango politely refused, selecting to use the same soap bar for the purpose. Of course, her friend refused the shampoo. `It being superfluousand mere indulgence,of course.'

 

“My thoughts exactly… Sango, did you know Shippou can also mean Seven Treasures?”

 

“Hai,” the Slayer bowed. She had not wanted to bring it up, for fear of agitating her pregnant friend.

 

“It was the first thing I thought of when you mentioned the reference. I don't know yet what to make of it, but yes, I definitely agree, it could be relevant. We will discuss it at the evening meal. It has to mean something. Why else would Naraku's minions chase you from the village? However, we will not discuss this with the children present. Jaken can engage them while we talk.” said the Miko still lost in thought, unaware how Sango's eyes crinkled in affection, noting the tone the Miko assumed. `Kagome has become the Western Lady.'

 

`Where have I heard the name Akago before?' thought the Priestess with a worried expression, butterflies again fluttering in her stomach.

 

Dunking to rinse her hair, Sango took a deep breath as she contemplated her next words. The opportunities, of late, were rare for her friend and herself to share a quiet moment for anything akin to girl talk. Much had changed between the two in a mere matter of weeks. Sango continued to fidget, having completed her bathing routine.

 

Kagome smiled warmly with Sango, deciding to leave well enough alone, until the first opportunity she had to speak with Sesshoumaru. Sango always fidgeted when she did not know how to approach a subject.

 

“Out with it woman. Try as I might, I cannot imagine it has to do with the Naraku debacle, which I would just as soon forget for the moment. So what has he done now?” said the Miko with mild amusement in her voice. Miroku was incorrigible, and had probably committed some minor offense of a sexual nature. The sudden vision of Sango in sinuous leather, with a whip and other accoutrement looking down at a houshi attached to her with a dog collar, panting at her feet, reared its head once more. She blinked the thought away, choosing instead to sit back, and watch Sango intently as she left the spring to towel herself dry.

 

“No, well, he hasn't actually done anything wrong per say. I mean…well, he…he told me that he has never wanted another woman, as he does me,” said the Slayer, in a small voice.

 

Kagome waited for more, finally pleased Miroku had taken her advice. Sango was a dear friend with a heart of gold. She was loyal to a fault, but most of all she needed love, loyalty and acceptance from him. In fact, she guarded her heart diligently, having witnessed the trials and tribulations her own mother went through with her own lecherous father. A good man but with the singular flaw of bestowing his favors to each and every willing, attractive, female that crossed his path. `Sangohad baggage that Miroku did nothing to dissuadewith his actions. Herissue was trust, or more accuratelythe lack of it. She could never give her love to a man she could not trust.'

 

Uncomfortable somewhat with the silence that followed her words, Sango looked at Kagome who had assumed an otherworldly pre-occupied expression once more.

 

`Sango meantcoral.Her friend embodied its fragilityand all its ancient qualities as an organic life formcapable of healing, especially the heart. She had anoptimistic nature,with a strong propensity for inner peace and a firm and practical sense of purposeand focus. The only force she avoided that was a natural element of coral was passion ergo love.Was Sango Sakimitama?It was fairly obvious that Miroku wasKushimitama which left only, friendship…Shippou.' The Miko smiled unaware her friend was stooping next to her, one hand waving before her eyes in fascination at her vacant yet pleasant expression.

 

Beautiful brown honey flecked eyes focused finally on Sango's with a wide grin of recognition and an inner sense of accomplishment.

 

“What's in a name indeed…,” she whispered to herself. Sesshoumaru, after much cajoling, had revealed a small detail of his conversation with her mother in the teahouse as it pertained to the kitsune's name and its alternate meaning. She would have to speak with him about this later, before she revealed her own tentative conclusions to the others. The Western Lord was an exceptional sounding board with his eloquent silences, in contrast to her own tendency to be admittedly verbose, not to mention he was a scrumptious smelling pillow, perfect for musing out loud ad nausea without interruption.

 

Sango folded her legs and sat grinned genuinely, believing, wrongly, she had finally gotten the gist of the Miko's pre-occupation.

 

“Let me guess? You are thinking about Sesshoumaru-sama, or some part of him? Your face says it all, Kagome. I wish I could feel that way about Miroku,” said Sango under her breath, the melancholy returning to her voice just as suddenly.

 

From a distant place within, a place of certainty, the Miko spoke.

 

“Miroku loves you Sango. He isn't lying and I firmly believe he has changed,” Kagome intoned gently, finally deciding to abandon the reassuring warmth of the spring. It wasn't as amenable without company. Sesshoumaru had spoilt her.

 

Sango handed her the thick, red, yet deceptively soft, yukata the Miko had brought from her world. The priestess tied the robe, and sat with her knees raised on the granite bench next to her friend with a pensive expression. `It was not quite as comfortable to do so,' she absently noted, before unfolding her legs and crossing them instead, as she thought of the best way to explain what she knew about their mutual friend.

 

The nerve-wracking silence caused Sango to clear her throat and pointedly look at her friend impatiently. Kagome was taking on more of her mate's tendencies for seemingly unending silences, than she realized.

 

sks

 

“Silence is a source of great strength.”

 

 

Sesshoumaru held the plans to the shiro up once more. His brows furrowed, before looking pointedly at the sand and stone garden's centerpiece, the quietly unassuming stone basin and the low gap beyond that so unnerved Kouga from when he was a pup.

 

Returning his gaze to the plans, he spoke.

 

“Priest,” he intoned in his usual bored baritone, flicking the parchment he held impatiently. Enough was enough.

 

“Forgive me, my Lord, I did not mean to disturb your private musings. Magnificent isn't it? Designed by the great tea master Sen-no-Rikyu, I believe.” said the Houshi feigning camaraderie, while frozen citrine pools glared, unimpressed with the houshi's correct assessment. `Tiresome. He wishes to converse, but meanders like the hidden spring that feed this fountain's basin and all seven gardens within the shiro. Why has he beenfollowing this Sesshoumaru at a respectful distance? Surely he knew his presence had not gone unnoticed?'

 

“Speak now or leave. The choice is yours.”

 

Bowing deeply, Miroku looked up with a smile on his lips, violet eyes ice cold at being summarily dismissed by the Western Lord.

 

“My apologies, Sesshoumaru-sama. I merely wondered if you have seen the slayer in your wanderings?” Equally, I came to inform you Inuyasha has returned to Kaede's village, doing a little reconnaissance, based on an, as of yet, unsubstantiated rumor.”

 

Sesshoumaru turned, not missing the tone or the spike of anger in the houshi's scent.

 

“The young pestilence has run off to the ningen village, to what end exactly?” said the Taiyoukai in his well modulated baritone, rolling the scroll tightly in anger. Why had he not been informed immediately? Someone would pay for this breach - namely Jaken.

 

Guessing the tenure of the Western Lord's thoughts, Miroku continued. “He will return by nightfall with Kirara. One of the guards mentioned a possible sighting of Ginta and a female wolf demon while on patrol. We did not want to burden you unnecessarily, my Lord, so we thought it best to investigate and report, while Jaken attended to your ward's studies and oversees the repairs to the dojo, which I might add are coming along nicely.”

 

Miroku attempted to smile winningly.

 

Sesshoumaru's frozen gaze never wavered, but for a moderate ticking of a maroon lid and the firm set of his lips into an angry line.

 

“If anyone is to blame for the delay, it is I. Under the circumstances we did not wish to disturb you unduly,” said the Priest, standing his ground, as the Taiyoukai approached him slowly like the predator he was, coming to a standstill a hairsbreadth from the Priest, towering over him with a feigned querulous expression.

 

“And what houshi-sama, would be those circumstances exactly?” intoned the Taiyoukai slowly, in a deeper than usual threatening register.

 

sks

 

“Nothing is softer or more flexible than water, yet nothing can resist it.”

 

“Kagome, under the circumstances, I mean, how can I trust his words? I am attracted to him,” said the Taijiya blushing once more, “still, I refuse to share the fate of my mother, regardless of how he makes me feel…when…when he touches me.”

 

The Priestess gently stroked her friend's damp hair, as Sango's head rested in her lap. In a very short time, the Miko had learned much from her Taiyoukai. Sometimes, one merely needed to listen to what remained unsaid.

 

“I believe he will be faithful to you Sango. He loves you. Life holds absolutely no guarantees however, my sister,” replied the Miko softly. Her own thoughts returned to her previous emotional turmoil with Inuyasha and his endless pursuit of Kikyou, his first love. She understood the inequities of the situation.

 

“Look at you and the Western Lord, for example. Now, he loves you. I wasn't so sure in the beginning. I feared for you initially as I thought he mainly pursued you for the perverse enjoyment of annoying Inuyasha. Then over time, when you constantly disappeared, and began intentionally seeking him out, I knew something more was going on and that though you remained unaware, you reciprocated his interest,” said Sango, matter-of-factly.

 

Kagome abruptly stopped stroking her friend's hair, looking down into deep brown knowing eyes.

 

“You knew?! Kami, Sango, I didn't even know that this Kagome was a moth to his open flame. He was, well is, so full of himself, I wanted to take him down a peg or two. At least I thought that was my reasoning. He mistreated, well treats, Inuyasha horribly and though Inuyasha would never admit it, he wants his brother's respect. Good or bad, that is the only real family he has. Neither will admit it, but they are alone in the world without each other, in the real sense of family.”

 

Sango rose elegantly out of the Miko's lap and shook her head. “Oh Kagome, you even begin to speak like him and neither of them is alone anymore. There is the little one, and me, and Miroku, and darling Shippou and Rin…and…even Jaken.”

 

Kagome raised her hand, blushing softly. “I get the point, but you know what I mean.”

 

A lewd grin crossed Sango's face once more. “I have a feeling the Taishou brood will be extensive, the way you two go at it. Inuyasha will have many …” Sango stopped to remember the word, “Rugrats calling him Otooji soon enough.”

 

“I see you are channeling Miroku again. Just think, any day now, you will be asking attractive males you meet if they want to have a child with you,” said the Miko, as both women began to laugh hysterically at the thoroughly ludicrous thought.

 

Their amused laughter and conspiratorial tones carried down the quiet halls of the honmaru, as two unsuspecting males approached. One clad in white, and the other deep purple and black, having resolved their differences…albeit, temporarily, with a common goal, the retrieval of their female folk from the hot spring.

 

“So, if you don't mind me asking…I mean, is he THAT good?” said Sango in an awed whisper.

 

Kagome's head rose suddenly, looking to the fusuma with a secretive grin playing about her lips.

 

The Taiyoukai stilled, placing a clawed hand in front of the priest's chest. Miroku understood implicitly the Western Lord heard something that intrigued him. They were not yet close enough for Miroku's hearing to detect what was said, which appeared to be the Lord's intent in their abrupt halt.

 

A lascivious smile crossed the houshi's handsome face. There were definite merits to having keen deductive reasoning, not to mention a firm grasp on the female psyche when it came to matters of sex. It also helped if you were licentiously inclined with a vivid, thoroughly prurient imagination. All of those qualities were the very embodiment of the lecherous priest.

 

Sesshoumaru's head remained cocked to one side, Miroku noted in amusement, as the lord's pale visage and neck began to color a delicate shade of pink.

 

The Western Lord strode to the fusuma with renewed purpose in his step, leaving the houshi far behind. He would put a stop to this immediately! It was indecent. Bitches actually had these rather personal discussions when left to their own devices without the guiding presence of a male to curtail them. He, the Mighty Taiyoukai, was not to be the subject of the Demonslayer's vulgar enquiries. She was no better than that priest.

 

“Hn…good doesn't cover it, woman. He is a magnificent lover. True, I have no comparison, but the feelings I get when he touches me is beyond words. He smells so good, Sango. You have no idea. Just the feel of his body next to mine sends me over the edge at times, or the sound of his voice when we are…you know, and did I mention his fine, and I do mean fine, ass? His markings are another thing entirely. The ones on his hips…oooooh girl…if I only had the words to describe when he…” purred the Miko sensually, practically licking her lips.

 

The conversation was brought to an abrupt halt as the fusuma, made of rare rose wood and mother of pearl inlay, came of its bamboo railings. A red-faced inuyoukai held it aloft, his claws biting through the wood as though it were butter, before hurling it in the direction of the Houshi, barely missing him. Both women stood staring at the Western Lord in shock. One of the two looked genuinely frightened and a little embarrassed, while the smaller of the two, in a deep red robe, smirked mischievously up at the Taiyoukai. `Gotchya!'

 

“That is what you get for eavesdropping, my Lord. I'll have Jaken add the sliding door to his `Honey Do' list, shall I? It really needs to be removed from the pond almost immediately. We don't want it getting waterlogged,” she said, sauntering past her Mate nonchalantly as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

 

He growled quietly in her ear as she passed, watching her retreating backside with interest. She would be punished for her knowing transgression.

 

With as much dignity as the Lord could muster, he turned on his heels following the small curvy female, head held high, surreptitiously adjusting Ruru. Oh she would pay dearly, after explaining this `Honey Do,' thought the Western Lord indignantly. His beast chuckled, further irritating the Taiyoukai. `Master has met his match.'

 

The Demonslayer approached the Houshi, shyly placing her hand in his, while they both watched with morbid fascination as the shoji to Lord and Lady's chambers slid shut.

 

Miroku smiled down at his Taijiya, “I missed you. Can we talk? I mean, really talk…” said the Priest seriously, his amethyst eyes taking in the dampness of her hair, and the warm glow of her skin.

 

Sango blushed, nodding her head almost imperceptibly.

 

sks

 

“Do the difficult things while they are easy and do the great things while they are small. A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step.”

 

 

The flames licked at the molten metal like a lover, ophthalmic eyes squinted in the heat, folding the limp metal meticulously in the forging trough one final time, before heating it again.

 

“Do you think they realize the magnitude of the gift their father bestowed upon them both?” said Myoga with a pensive expression, his little, nearly bald, head, sweating profusely. `This volcano Totosai calls home is far too inhospitable for anyone not a pyro-kinetic youkai.'

 

Bulbous eyes turned to Myoga with an absent expression, sweat pouring from his forehead. “What gift are you talking about, flea? I have to finish this, since you insist we need to go see Lord Sesshoumaru. Not something I am personally looking forward to, I might add. Why now?” said Totosai absently, as he breathed fire on the blank.

 

Myoga sighed. This was going to be the third time he had to explain the urgency of the situation. Current rumor had it Naraku had come out of hiding and attempted to kidnap the new Western Lady in broad daylight. All signs the battle was soon.

 

“You know they are both stubborn, and I don't look forward to seeing either of them. We are honor bound to fulfill their father's request. No matter the undue pain, it might cause, literally and figuratively. We have waited long enough, Totosai. It would be dishonorable. The Miko is pupped with the heir to the Tachi sword, if the prophecy is accurate. It is your responsibility to finish the katana in preparation for her arrival. I am sure the Western Lord has it in his possession as we speak. We will have to approach him diplomatically,” said Myoga nervously, hoping this time his friend would finally retain the information and they could finally leave.

 

Totosai's expression changed suddenly, assuming a cross-eyed google. “Let me place it in the quench tank then hang it, so it has no bending load in the salting pot. Once I have done this, we can leave. By the time you get Mo-Mo, I will be ready.” Myoga was right, they had delayed long enough. Sesshoumaru-sama was the least of their worries, there was that wretched, ill-mannered pup to contend with.

 

sks

 

 

“Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them - that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.”

 

Ayame's nose was red, Inuyasha noted. Even the Iris hung limp in her fire red hair. Ginta snored, mouth open, in the corner of Kaede's hut.

 

“So, he is alive then? I mean, he will get better right and his shards are intact?” she asked, her eyes filling with tears, as she simultaneously hiccupped and coughed uncontrollably. A firm slap to her back sent her sailing, as the hanyou looked at his clawed hand in disbelief and looked away sheepishly, while righting her. He had only meant to stop her coughing. Not rupture something.

 

Inuyasha's amber gaze fell to her cleavage and her long legs, unmindful of her questions. She had changed a lot, since he had seen her last. What was the mangy wolf playing at?

 

“Inuyasha?” said Ayame, looking at him questioning. `He appears deep in thought.'

 

“Feh, the mangy wretch will live, no worries. Kagome got to him in time. What was he doin' there anyway? We still haven't found that out. Wasn't he supposed to be with you in the North?” the hanyou asked gruffly, furtively glancing at her through his bangs, unable to keep her eyes for any length of time, as he blushed. The Asshole was rubbing off on him. He needed to find Kikyou after he took them back to the shiro.

 

Ayame's former countenance abruptly changed, her lips pursed as her eyes became cold. Why did he insist on mentioning her name? She did not need reminders of Kouga's supposed woman and why he ran off in the first place.

 

 

sks

 

 

“Love is of all passions the strongest, for it attacks simultaneously the head, the heart and the senses.”

 

The backpack's contents proved an excellent excuse for ignoring the Taiyoukai's presence, the Miko found, rummaging through it, things flying this way and that from its depths onto their sleeping palette.

 

Sesshoumaru cringed involuntarily. His ordered existence was threatened by the looks of things. He wasn't far wrong.

 

“I'm sorry. I meant everything I said. I love the claws off you, Sesshoumaru.”

 

“YES!” she said in triumph, finally having found the loose fitting, long skirt she intended to wear at dinner. Turning to face the stoic male, she found herself nose to chest unexpectedly.

 

Looking up into mesmerizing citrine eyes, she smiled shyly into them, before turning back quickly to the palette in search of its silky maroon camisole. Her heart was hammering uncontrollable with his nearness.

 

The Western Lord nuzzled her neck from behind, purring softly in her ear. All was apparently, forgiven - such a surprise. Warm hands encircled her waist, resting on her stomach gently.

 

Having found it, she held it up for their mutual inspection. “Sesshoumaru, I think maybe, Sango is Sakimitama, Miroku represents Kushimitama and of course my beloved little `Seven Treasures' is Nigimitama. What do you think?” inquired the Miko, as a single clawed digit stroked the soft material of the camisole with approval.

 

Shedding her robe, Kagome dressed quickly under the watchful eye of her Mate, who had yet to say a word. She looked around with curiosity into his hooded gaze. The waistband was proving challenging, but finally snapped closed. He was acting strange again, like earlier this afternoon when he suddenly left the hot spring.

 

“Well? What do you think, Sesshoumaru?” she said slowly, trying to read his expression.

 

The Taiyoukai's gaze traveled the length of the Miko in approval. True, her well toned arms were exposed, as was some amount of cleavage, but the lower garment was relatively modest. It did accentuate her curves and fell to her ankles. It was an attempt at reserve, and she merited praise for trying.

 

“The color compliments your delicate complexion, as to the aspects of the Shikon-no-Tama, this Sesshoumaru can find no fault with your logic, Miko.” he said blandly, before turning and walking towards the shoji. “I will meet you in the dining hall shortly. You must eat, Kagome. Satori requires nourishment soon. Your kit and my ward are being supervised by the elder Miko. Jaken will retrieve you. Until then, you are to rest.”

 

Without waiting for a response, the shoji closed.

 

Kagome closed and opened her mouth, in confusion and frustration, then returned her gaze to the palette, which was a mess. Mumbling under her breath at her Mate's imperious tone, she began organizing the items on the palette. She hated disorder, contrary to what the Western Lord might believe.

 

A soft tap on the shoji interrupted her current musings, as she turned from the Tansu, having sorted her clothing, careful not to disturb Sesshoumaru's own wafuku neatly folded there. She suppressed a mischievous urge to shift a kosode or haori slightly, ruining the symmetry he preferred in all aspects of his life, recognizing it would probably fall on a servant's head literally.

 

“Come Jaken-sama, I am almost ready,” she called out, while quickly placing the kogai in her upswept bun.

 

sks

 

“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”

 

Miroku's fingers continued to caress Sango's locks. It was rare for her to wear it in any other fashion other than up. The slayer sighed, her head resting on one broad shoulder, enjoying the feeling of his fingers. `This is nice.'

 

“We will succeed, Miroku, and the spell that has haunted the males of your family will be broken. You will not be absorbed by your Wind Tunnel. I simply won't allow it,” assured the Slayer quietly, taking his covered palm in hers.

 

The Houshi kissed the side of Sango's head, acknowledging her words and the unspoken.

 

“Of all the gardens in the Western Shiro, I think this one appeals to me most,” said the Priest in response.

 

Sango smiled half heartedly, “Of course, it is the ultimate in Zen gardening. I particularly enjoy the basin and the intricate carving at its base. Have you noticed it takes the same form as the crescents on your staff?” asked the slayer in an amused tone.

 

Miroku's violet eyes hooded, as he looked at the intricate circles at the head of his Shakujo. She was right.

 

“Come Sango, we must find the Taiyoukai and the others now. With luck, Inuyasha and Kirara will return from the village before nightfall. I think I might be on to what Sesshoumaru-sama was doing earlier.”

 

Pulling her up hastily, he smiled into her confused enquiring eyes and kissed her lips with relish. “You are not only beautiful, Sango, you're brilliant! I'll explain on the way, but we need to check one thing first,” said the Priest. With purpose in his stride, he pulled the Slayer along towards the dining hall, her hair flying behind in shiny dark waves.

 

sks

 

“If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading.”

 

“I can manage Tatsuo, thanks anyway. I'm tired of sleeping and I want to see my…the Western Lady, and that mangy mutt Inuyasha. He practically broke my ribs when he threw me down on the futon the last time.”

 

Tatsuo bowed, carefully keeping his face expressionless, as he opened the fusuma for the Prince. It would not do to encourage the Ookami Prince's disrespectful banter pertaining to his Lord's half-brother, Lord Inuyasha, however amusing.

 

sks

 

“Great acts are made up of small deeds.”

 

 

The little kappa was all attention while shouldering the disreputable satchel, as the Miko continued to extol the virtues of her present, while heading to the dining hall. No one had ever bothered to gift him with anything other than abuse and here was this oddly dressed, palatable ningen female, now his Master's Lady, showing kindness once more.

 

“You simply have to put it in the cool stream, and keep it there, for emergencies, and when you have a… well, you get hurt, you can put it on your forehead like this. It will decrease the swelling markedly in a very short period of time.” said Kagome brightly, smiling down at the little imp, who looked up at her with google-eyed humility and thanks.

 

“Thank you, my Lady. Jaken will remember this always.”

 

The Miko continued to smile with him, blushing at his thanks, which she had not anticipated.

 

“How goes it with repairs to the dojo? I see the fusuma to the hot spring has already been repaired. Your staff works efficiently, Jaken-sama, my compliments,” she said in an effort to give him something to speak about authoritatively. Like Sesshoumaru, she found, he did better with things tangible.

 

Pulling himself up to his full height, not that there was a difference to the casual observer, the little green youkai began to expound on the accomplishments of the early afternoon's work and the surprising intelligence and adaptability of his latest pupil, Shippou.

 

The Western Lady smiled, recognizing why he brought Shippou's name into the conversation. He was saying thank you…without having to. Many years of servitude with the taciturn Western Lord had colored his cautious manner in conversation.

 

sks

 

 

“Be the chief but never the lord.”

 

Familiar, childish laughter, the enticing, delicate aroma of food, and a sensual baritone in conversation with another male greeted the Miko upon entry to the dining hall. All motion and conversation ceased. A set of almond shaped citrine eyes gazed at her in a steadfast manner, causing her to begin blushing once more. Miroku nudged Sango, who smiled and looked off quickly.

 

As always, Shippou charged his mother, and she swung him up into her arms. Kissing his cheek. “Someone had a bath. You smell wonderful, Shippou and I understand you have been an exceptional pupil.”

 

The kit rolled his eyes, and smiled sheepishly. He hugged her tightly in turn, finally glad to see and touch her. Mama embarrassed him at times. Thank Kami Dog Boy wasn't here to witness this. He could never live this down.

 

Hugging her kit to her, she enjoyed the smell of the small male, `I've missed you, Shippou. Tonight, any story you want, when I tuck you in.' she whispered in his ear.

 

Shippou's face broke into a broad smile, as firm hands relieved the Miko of the small male. It was Sango, who winked at her, pointedly looking in the Taiyoukai's direction.

 

His face was a frozen pallid mask, his temper barely under control.

 

“You might want to go and sit with your Mate, before he tosses Shippou in the pond in a fit of pique,” chuckled, the Taijiya under her breath.

 

Kagome relinquished her hold of her son and winked at her friend. She would have to speak to Sesshoumaru privately about all these damn rules of protocol, most of which he probably instituted himself.

 

Approaching the Taiyoukai with her head bowed, the Miko carefully sat on the zabuton next to her Mate. Her mating mark tingled pleasantly. She had done right.

 

Without missing a beat, conversations began again in earnest as the meal prepared was served. Rin smiled at her secretively, before delicately reaching for her own tea in a familiar cup. Kagome followed suit, with a gentle smile in turn.

 

Kaede watched the interaction between the ward and the Miko with satisfaction, before returning her attentions to the Ookami who sat with eyes only for the Lady of the Western Lands. This was NOT good.

 

sks

 

 

“Mo-Mo, come on old girl, you can make it. There is some juicy grass in it for you!” said the excitable, gravelly voiced Totosai as a means of enticement.

 

He could see one of the Western Shiro's Tenshus not too far in the distance. The three-eyed ox-youkai mooed tiredly. This was the greatest distance she had flown for quite some time. Totosai rarely left his forge for any reason, other than to get supplies in their local village. It also did not help, that a replete, rotund, flea, filled with her blood, also sat on her aged swayback.

 

“Myoga!? Isn't that Kirara and Inuyasha coming from the east?” Totosai said, with a high-pitched nervous squeak.

 

Myoga opened his sleepy eyes fully at the mention of his name and that of the Western Lord's testy, younger sibling. `Of all the luck,' thought the tubby flea, disquieted by their rapid approach. Inuyasha had seen them, changing Kirara's path to intercept.

 

“It appears, he has a female companion,” said Totosai with equal misgivings.

 

sks

 

Kouga sat transfixed, sipping his sake meditatively, barely acknowledging Miroku's good- natured chiding and Sango's attempt at conversation with him.

 

The Slayer shrugged her shoulders in defeat, returning her attention to Kaede, who had missed nothing.

 

Leaning towards her the Slayer whispered to the elderly Healer. “Lord Sesshoumaru is watching him equally as intently. This doesn't look good. Only Kagome remains oblivious. She hasn't seen Shippou in awhile and he is basking in her adoration. We have to do something or Prince Kouga might very well find himself at the business end of Toukijin.”

 

Miroku smiled over his own sake cup, his eyes having a mauve tone in the lantern light. He needed to bring Kouga out of his ridiculous stupor, or this night would be his last.

 

“Prince Kouga, I am sure we all would be curious to know how you were captured by Naraku exactly?” inquired the Monk, with deceptively pleasant tone.

 

Silence followed.

 

Kagome raised her head, simultaneously with that of her Lord, as a red clad Hanyou appeared in the doorway, accompanied by an auburn haired female dressed in strategically placed furs and skin. The female in question glowered at the Priestess with piercing green eyes, not even bothering to look at the Wolf of her unrequited affections.

 

“Yeah, you mangy piece of shit, how did you manage that? Eastern Prince of Wolves my ass,” said the Hanyou in a derisive tone, as a stooped male, the age of Methuselah, tottered in to his left, along with a short, round flea, the size of an infant in arms.

 

Kagome slapped her forehead. “Akago!” the Miko said.

 

She had remembered after all.

 

“To the mind that is still, the whole universe surrenders.”

 

Namaste

 

EP