InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Trust ❯ Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Masaharu sat in his tent, brooding. The thrill of the earlier hunt with his son and other pack members had faded, and he was back to thinking about his problems. The incident with Inu Yasha had disturbed him more than he let on. His heart ached for his younger son, but he could not allow his sympathy to color his actions. If Inu Yasha continued to endanger anyone else because of that woman, he would make good on his threat and his youngest son would be banished from this battle.

He sighed, shifting his weight on his sleeping pallet. He did not know how he would have reacted in the same situation, especially at Inu Yasha's age. Sesshomaru's mother had lived long enough to wean their son, then died from a sudden fever. If she had shown up fighting for the enemy, he wasn't sure what he would have done.

Her name had been Tora, and they had mated young. She had been reserved, with a sly wit and a generous heart. Her quiet strength and soothing presence perfectly complemented the blustering impulsiveness of his youth. Masaharu had been devastated when she died, but grateful that she lived on in their son.

Upon meeting Malia, their Bond formation had stunned him, to say the least. He fought it as long as he could, thinking it a betrayal of his first love. At first glance, she seemed to be Tora's complete opposite. Malia was cheerful, strong-willed and had little to no concern with propriety. She decided that if she was going to be bound to a man for the rest of her life, she refused to let him make her miserable.

She then proceeded to wear him down. He smiled at the memory.

He regretted the time he had wasted fighting against it, but was glad he finally came to his senses. And in time they had been blessed with a strong and beautiful child who now had a mate of his own.

And both son and daughter were in pain now, due to the machinations of Naraku. He knew they had the strength to get through this, but hoped that their will was up to the task as well.

***

Malia stalked through the Dog Clan camp, and everyone who saw recognized her foul mood and stayed out of the way. She was angry. Angry at her son for putting Kagome in danger, angry at her husband for sympathizing, and angry at herself for being so angry.

She thought that she had long buried her insecurities concerning her husband's first mate. She had long come to terms with his love for Tora; proof of it walked around in the form of her stepson. She knew that that love did not in any way diminish the love he had for her.

She did not begrudge Masaharu his first love. But she found herself with the same doubts Kagome had. Masaharu had been with Tora of his own choice, while Malia was bound to him by a force beyond their control. And if she found herself facing her Bonded's dead love, she did not know if she could have shown Kagome's forgiveness.

Malia clenched her fists and kicked a stone from her path. She knew she was acting juvenile, but couldn't bring herself to give a damn at the moment. She saw Inu Yasha's stricken face in her mind's eye and wanted to cry. Her poor baby. It wasn't his fault. She would deal with her neuroses on her own time, and not take them out on her son.

But still…it hurt to think of what the situation might have been if Masaharu had been in Inu Yasha's place.

She remembered the girl. Kikyou had been one of the few people, human or shifter, to accept him as he was. Given her kind nature, it was inevitable that the two would become attached. And when she was thought dead after the attack on her village, Malia had feared for her son's sanity. He had fallen into a state of despair she had not seen since Zi's disappearance. Inu Yasha had so much loyalty and devotion when it came to his friends and family--his feeling of responsibility towards her should have surprised no one.

Pain stabbed at her as she thought of how Kagome must be feeling. Malia then shook her head in disgust. How could she disregard her son's pain like that?

And the cause of all this sat out there this very second. Waiting for the next opportunity to present itself so he could then exploit it for all it was worth. What kind of creature toyed with people's lives and emotions to such an extent and was still able to live with himself?

"Naraku, you fucker." She snarled, and the people around her hid smiles. Not all of Inu Yasha's bad habits came from his father.

***

Sesshomaru stormed to the front walls at Shri's summons. Her insistence on his presence even after his initial snarling response was sign enough of the urgency of the situation. He was, however, less than inclined to suppress his frustration and anger much…just enough to converse intelligently.

Back in the room, Nzinga lay on her bed, eyes wide and shaking in disbelief. She screamed in frustration; her claws spasmed, digging into the bedding below her. Sesshomaru had just gotten the head of his shaft inside her when they were interrupted, and her body still throbbed from the brief contact.

"I…can't believe…" she said incredulously.

***

Sango was cold. But fixing that meant moving, and she had no desire to do so. She was still at the point of drowsiness where sleep was still possible without too much effort. As the cold grew, her body began to override her mind with its incessant demand for warmth. Grumbling, she reached out an arm for the extra blanket she kept at the foot of the bed. Catching the corner, she tugged to bring it up over herself, but it would not move.

Puzzled, she sat up, her drowsiness dissipating as she tried again to cover herself with the blanket. Figuring it must be caught on something, she tugged harder, moving to see what was keeping her blanket from her. Looking over the side of her bed, she saw Miroku lying on the floor, the blanket caught underneath him.

Grumbling, she tugged some more, but the monk did not budge. Reaching down she shook his shoulder in an attempt to wake him and get him back in the bed. Propriety was the last thing on her mind; if he got back in the bed, they could share the blanket and she wouldn't be cold anymore.

Something about her room struck her as odd, but she was focused on the blanket and paid the strange feeling no mind. Sighing, she decided to get up and try to get him back in the bed herself. Standing next to the bed, she felt a draft and shivered. Bemoaning the loss of her comfortably drowsy state, she looked around for the source. Her door was closed, and her window securely shuttered. Now confused, she cast her gaze around her room, finally landing back on Miroku. Her gaze sharpened when she realized the source of her unease.

When she first saw Miroku on the floor, he was sprawled out, arms and legs thrown carelessly, like a child. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized that she could no longer see the leg farthest from her. As she watched, his near leg seemed to be disappearing from view as well. Doubting her eyes, Sango lit the lamp next to her bed.

When she turned back to Miroku, she gasped in horror. There was a hole in her floor and the suction from it was the cause of the chilling draft that had woken her up. Miroku's arm and leg were lost in it. As she watched, the hole began to stir his hair as well, as if to taunt her with its final goal.

Grabbing his near arm, she began pulling on him with all her might, screaming his name. He did not wake; he continued to be pulled into the hole at a slow, inexorable pace. The draft from the hole continued to chill her, but not nearly as much of the sight of the monk disappearing into nothingness.

Her desperation strengthened her tugs, and she braced herself against the opposing pull as her screams gained in intensity. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that screaming was draining her strength more quickly, but she simply had to wake him up before it was too late.

He jerked awake at her last scream, and a look of horror crossed his face as he realized what was happening. His hand wrapped around Sango's wrist, and he attempted to pull himself out. But even with her aid, it was obvious that the abyss' hold was too strong. And now, Sango was beginning to be dragged in. She stumbled and fell to her knees, still bracing herself.

As horrifying as the whole event had been, nothing froze Sango's blood more then the look of acceptance that came over on Miroku's face when he realized her danger. As Sango planted her feet against the pull, he looked at her terrified face and said, "I told you I would do anything to protect you-even from myself."

"No, no, you stupid monk, you can't give up! You can't-" She was exhausted and out of breath, but willing to fight on.

His violet eyes met hers; calm and sad. "Sango, I will not be the cause of your death." He used his free hand to break her hold on him, ignoring her screams.

"I love you." That velvet smooth voice, that she privately thought of as being violet tinged; violet like his robe, violet like the evening sky, violet like his eyes, was telling her goodbye forever.

With those words, he yanked his hand from her grasp and was completely swallowed by the abyss.

As if satisfied, the hole contracted to a pinpoint, then disappeared. Sango sank to the floor, stunned.

"Miroku?" she asked softly. "Miroku? I never told you…" She hesitantly reached out a hand to touch the floor where he had been.

Nothing but cold stone met her fingertips…and nothing answered her but a piercing silence. She began to scream, from pain as much as to escape from that awful absence of sound.

"Miroku? Miroku! MIROKU!!!!"

Miroku sprang out of the bed into a battle ready stance. A quick glance showed him only a hysterical Sango clawing at the sheets. Climbing back into the bed, he gathered her into his arms as sobs wrenched her body.

He rocked her back and forth, murmuring comforting nonsense as he waited for her to calm down. As she came back to herself, she realized where she was, and who held her. The moonlight trickled through her window, outlining the planes of his face. She traced his features with her fingertips, as if to reassure herself of his safety.

Miroku heaved a sigh of relief as her sobs began to taper off. He kept giving her small kisses on her forehead and temple. She shuddered under his hands as he unhurriedly ran them over her back and arms.

She looked around her room to reassure herself. There was her fireplace, banked for the night as usual, giving off a comforting warm glow. In the dream, the hearth was cold and dark. She felt leather against her skin instead of the normal wool of her nightgown. She was still dressed; she must have fallen asleep keeping watch over Miroku.

There was Hiraikotsu in its normal spot against the wall. And there was her window, with slivers of moonlight peeking through the slats in the shutters. And here was Miroku, strong, alive, and rocking her in his best attempt to comfort her after her dream.

He was no stranger to bad dreams himself, but could not imagine what could have reduced Sango to such a state. He waited several more minutes as the sobs gave way to hitching breaths. As her breathing smoothed out, he placed a hand underneath her chin and tipped her face up to his. Her reddened eyes and strained face nearly broke his heart.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly.

She sniffled, and opened her mouth to speak. Seeming to change her mind, she closed her mouth and he waited patiently for her to compose herself enough to speak. However, what came out of her mouth was the last thing he expected.

"Do you really want to marry me?" she asked hoarsely.

Frowning in confusion, he replied, "Of course I do. Did you think this would change my mind?" He smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

Pushing against his chest slightly, she sat up so that she was no longer leaning against him, although his arms remained around her. "Then let's go."

Miroku blinked. "Go?"

"Get married. Let's go get married now."

"Sango. I-I…are you certain this is what you want?"

She nodded, not speaking.

Miroku's heart felt as though it would burst in his chest. Exhilaration filled him, then ebbed a bit as he looked at her tear stained face. Rearranging his arms around her, he chose his words carefully. "Sango. I want to marry you more than anything. But you are upset right now, and I do not want you rushing into anything. Perhaps you should tell me about your nightmare first. After you have calmed down, if you still want to marry me, then we will go and find someone as soon as you say the word."

She looked at him a moment before nodding. As she related her dream, Miroku tightened his arms around her, comforting them both with the act. As she finished, he was silent a moment.

"It is natural to have nightmares in the midst of battle." He tried to comfort her.

"But do you think it means anything?" She demanded.

"Dreams often reflect our hidden fears." He replied. A shadow crossed his face. "Do you truly believe I would leave you, Sango?"

"I-I don't…" Sango began.

Miroku said firmly, "If then only way to alleviate these fears is to marry you, then I will do it. I already want to; as long as you are willing I need no reason to wait."

Sango smiled and nuzzled her face into his neck. Out of her sight, Miroku looked troubled. Banishing his fears, he told her, "I would gladly marry you this moment, however, it is the middle of the night. Can we wait until the morning? That way I can at least ask your parents' blessing. I have no desire to show them disrespect."

Sango blinked, not having thought of that. "You're right, of course. I'm sorry to rush you, I just…"

He silenced her with a warm kiss. "Never apologize for that. How can I be anything other than flattered by your wishes? We have a few hours before dawn; do you think you can sleep now?" At her nod, he pressed his lips to her forehead. "Then let us go back to sleep."

Sango immediately felt bad for waking him. She had put him to bed, only to fall asleep herself, then woke him up in the middle of the night with childish night fears. She watched him as he stood up, gently untwisting the blankets from her abrupt awakening. Smoothing them back over her, he climbed back into bed.

Sango momentarily felt self-conscious as he pulled her up against him, but that faded. Her last thought before falling asleep was that she had never answered his question. It seemed to her that her dream did not show a fear of him leaving so much as it showed a fear of him being taken from her.

Even as she thought this, his warmth against her back lulled her into drowsiness, and she quickly fell asleep. Miroku stayed awake until he was certain she was no longer awake, and dropped back into his own slumber.

***

"We knew it would happen soon enough, pack leader. I just wish we had a little more time." Shri looked worried as she spoke.

Sesshomaru did not answer immediately, focusing on Naraku's forces. They were starting to build bridges of stone to cross the chasm of lava. These would almost certainly be reinforced by spirit to make them less susceptible to attack.

"I will notify my father and the elders." He said finally. "Judging by the looks of that first bridge, we still have until tomorrow at least. I doubt they will be done in the morning, but we cannot afford to underestimate them." He turned back to Shri. "Continue to keep me informed."

"Understood, pack leader." Shri replied. As he turned to walk away, she asked, "Pack leader? If I might be bold enough to make a suggestion?"

Sesshomaru turned to her, slightly puzzled at her uncharacteristically formal manner. He nodded his assent.

"Given the pack mother's strength in fire and earth, is there any way she would be able to use the lava to help destroy the bridges? I understand that they are building them high enough to keep themselves from burning, but they only expecting stationary lava. If we can get the lava to erupt as it does from a volcano, it can destroy their bridges."

"And if we wait until they have started to cross them, we can destroy even more of their forces." Samarjit added.

Sesshomaru hesitated. It was a good plan, but he would not risk Nzinga draining herself to near death as she had already done once before.

However, he could not be an effective leader if refused to use one of his best weapons to its fullest capabilities. Even if said weapon was his mate.

"I will speak to her of this. If she can do it without endangering herself, then we will go forward with your plan." Sesshomaru answered.

"Thank you, pack leader." Shri and Samarjit spoke in unison, identical looks of satisfaction on their faces.

As he turned to leave, another thought struck him. "Shrikirti. How is it that you were certain enough of the pack mother's health to suggest such an action?"

She blinked, all innocence. "Judging from your response when I first called you, I could only assume that the pack mother has more than recovered." Samarjit stifled a guffaw behind her.

Sesshomaru stiffened, then continued to make his way in search of his father. His pack members at least had the common sense to wait until he was out of earshot before they started to laugh.

*Mate.*

*Yes, dog boy?* He could hear the smirk in her voice.

*Have you rested?*

*Yes, I'm eating now, though. What do you need?*

*When you finish eating, come find me. Shri has a plan that involves you.* He thought he successfully kept the worry from his thoughts.

*All right.*

Nzinga chewed thoughtfully as her mate cut off the link. She was still somewhat charged by their earlier interrupted love play, so she had no doubt she was up to whatever challenge that crazy Shrikirti had seen fit to throw her way.

Setting down the steak, she grabbed a piece of cheese. She still had yet to find a way to better utilize the chasm. She remembered seeing it while meeting with the elders and wanting to make better use of it; not enough of the enemy were dying from it. Maybe she would ask Shri for ideas.

She leisurely finished her meal, leaving some for later. It would hardly go to waste in her room; she chuckled. Washing her hands, she took one last look at her room, strapping on her weapons at the last moment.

When she arrived, Sesshomaru looked surly. Well, surly for him, anyway.

"Did you have enough to eat?" He said neutrally.

"Don't start," she growled. She had used a lot of energy to recover. It's not her fault everything tasted so good.

Zi looked over at Shri. "So, what's this plan of yours?"

Sesshomaru watched as his mate listened to Shri explain her plan. By the end, he could practically feel the excitement rolling off her in waves.

He supposed he should not have been surprised. His warrior mate was always up for a good fight.

She turned to him, eyes bright with eagerness. "I can do it, but it would be easier with your help."

He looked down at her open face. *You have but to ask, my mate.* He sent to her privately. She felt her face warm at the tenderness she felt from him.

"Has this been cleared? Should we wait until morning when they actually attempt to use the bridges?" She reigned in her eagerness with an effort. This was battle, and she forced herself to see beyond her own impatience.

"You have a point. Perhaps we should wait. It seems that the battle will begin soon enough without any rush on our part." Sesshomaru replied.

"From the looks of things, they will have enough of those bridges done by tomorrow to attempt another attack. And with Naraku here, we can be sure this one will be far better planned than the last." Shri looked thoughtful.

"Are you and Samarjit on duty tonight?" Zi asked.

"Not for much longer; Puja and Vijay relieve us soon."

"Do you think they would mind if I stayed out here with them?"

"Of course not, pack mother."

Sesshomaru looked at her in inquiry. "I've slept enough lately. And I just want to be outside as a panther for a while. It's been too long since I've been able to do that."

Sesshomaru remembered an event not long after Zi's mother Uchenna had left her with her friend Malia. He knew it was for her protection, although he had been too young to be told the full reasons why. He nevertheless listened intently when his father had taken him aside and solemnly told Sesshomaru that he was to help keep the young girl safe.

This particular memory stuck out in his mind because it was one of the few times he had ever seen the normally levelheaded Malia rendered speechless.

Somehow, a six-year old Nzinga had climbed to the top of a small hill, bringing a toddling Inu Yasha along. The night before, she had been enthralled as a traveling bard told a tale of a long ago battle between the people of Erin and invaders from the north.

So this morning, she decided to reenact it.

She stripped both Inu Yasha and herself of their clothes, and began to give her version of the Celtic battle cries she had heard from a traveling storyteller the night before. To complete the picture, she had smeared mud all over both of their faces in a childish attempt at warpaint. Knowing better than to touch a real weapon, she brandished a thighbone that had been picked clean and discarded from an earlier kill.

Not to be outdone, Inu Yasha howled along with his new playmate over his new territory. His calls, translated loosely, meant "Mine! Mine! Mine! Hey! Mine!" To remove any doubt of ownership, he then began to urinate all over the hill.

Recognizing his son's howls, Masaharu came to see what the commotion was about. He had taken one look at his dirty ward and pissy son, and immediately called for his mate. Sesshomaru followed, fascinated as his stepmother's face went from red to purple during its trip from disbelief to horror. She refused to climb the hill after them, not wanting to know what other substances the children had deposited in order to stake their claim.

It was finally Sesshomaru who came to the rescue, once he recovered from his amusement. At the wise old age of nine, he was his younger brother's hero, and Inu Yasha wanted to be just like him. Making the supreme sacrifice (since he had just had a bath the day before), he called his baby brother down to join him for a much needed bath. Inu Yasha immediately ran for his brother, but little Nzinga, mothering instincts already firmly in place, descended with him to prevent any injuries.

They all walked off to a pond to get the worst of the mess off, then were taken to the baths for a full scrubbing. Afterwards, Zi was fascinated and a little envious that Inu Yasha could shake himself dry like a dog, but she could not. She only succeeded in making her head hurt.

Shaking off the memories, Sesshomaru bit back a rare laugh. Now, she defends yet another piece of high ground by her brother's side. He supposed some things never changed.

Eyes running over his mate's exaggerated hourglass figure, he smiled. And thank the gods, other things did.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked him, curious at what had produced that enigmatic smile.

"About when I met you." He answered, half-truthfully.

She slanted him a suspicious look, but said only "Hmm…" and left it at that.

"Will you be out here all night?" He asked.

"I'm not sure…I've slept so much lately, I just may."

He nodded. "Call me if you have need." He turned to leave, pausing at Zi's protesting noise. She had stepped into shadow and had begun to strip. His eyebrow twitched in irritation-there were other males on the wall. Samarjit was bad enough, but now Vijay was here to relieve him.

Catching her tossed clothing in one hand, he eyed her levelly. "Is there anything else this unworthy one can do for you before he retires?" He asked with exaggerated courtesy. Zi, her shifting already complete, purred and rubbed her body against his leg.

"If you think that excuses-" he began, ready to lecture her on her immodesty.

*I had an itch.* She cut him off. She watched him blandly, while his brows began to draw together in annoyance. He gave her one last narrow look and stalked off.

Zi chuckled to herself and walked over to her friends as they began their shift on guard.

They enjoyed themselves, laughing quietly as they kept watch. Conn joined them partway through, and the cousins took turns translating Zi's mental speech to the big redhead, as she could not speak to him in panther form. Regardless, she enjoyed the camaraderie.

She had a feeling it would be the last quiet night for some time.