InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Yume ❯ Chapter 5 ( Chapter 6 )

Disclaimer: Must I do this every time? *huffs* Fine. As Sesshoumaru insists on reminding me (repeatedly), I do not own him. He says "wishing does not make it so". Killjoy. Like he would know. Besides, I think I had my lawyers sneak a clause into his contract that should fix that...

**review responses at the end**

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Yume

Previously:

He ignored the tiny voice that whispered his feelings from the dream were not going to be that easy to push aside. Instead, he concentrated on the most likely candidates to pursue, and determined his first course of action. He knew just where to begin.

Something close to a smile teased the corners of his stern mouth, and a predatory gleam kindled in his golden gaze. If Jaken had been present as witness, he would have run squawking in utter terror, certain of the apocalypse, for a low, rich, viciously amused sound was issuing from his master's pale throat.

Sesshoumaru was laughing in anticipation.

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It was over within the space of a single heartbeat. The incandescent light faded just as quickly as it had been born, shrinking back in on itself-a collapsed supernova of holy energy returning to the womb from which it was created. An idea burst, fully formed and immensely exciting with the force of inspiring implications, across the dark landscape of Naraku's mind: someone had activated the full power of the Shikon no Tama-without it being complete. He didn't have to ask himself how he knew this to be true, for the proof was in what he had witnessed in the split second he had glimpsed the jewel prior to the wave of destructive force that had crashed against his youki shield.

In that instant, the Shikon no Tama had been whole.

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Chapter 5

Routaro was quivering in fear, his already moist green skin dampened further with clammy beads of icy sweat. He had no doubts that, should the whim strike his cruel master, he would be cut down in an instant.

With relief, he remembered that the information he brought should please the vicious demon. He hoped it would not be remembered that Shin, who had related his own failure to locate the final Shikon shard earlier that morning, was his former partner. Routaro did not want his now-deceased friend's dereliction of duty to reflect poorly upon himself, lest he suffer the same fate.

The lowly demon shuddered as the sight of Shin's broken, bloody body rose in his memory. Sometimes it did not pay to have friends. He knew Shin would understand his own need to distance himself-it was a simple matter of survival around the dark demon they both served.

"You have located the hanyou and his group?" The dangerously smooth tones slithered out of the shadows that seemed to drape around the silk-clad man seated casually on a raised dias.

Routaro swallowed heavily before answering in the affirmative, "Hai, oyakata-sama. They left Inuyasha's Forest two days ago and are currently on their way to Toutousai the sword smith."

"And do they have they located any more shards?" Naraku's voice took on a deadly edge and the shadowed form leaned infinitesimally forward. Tense anticipation radiated off the dark demon in waves, and Routaro knew that his answer could very well be the last words to pass his lips.

"N-no, oyakata-sama, it did not a-appear so," his voice trembled in terror, imagining a tentacle hurtling toward him, seeking out his heart's blood and plunging into his chest to quench a dark thirst...

After several minutes of heavy silence, Routaro shifted restively, wondering if he had pleased his cruel master, or if he was in imminent danger of finding his throat ripped out. When a few more agonizing moments dragged by and he had to consciously fight the urge to wipe his sweating brow, he began to believe his presence had been completely forgotten. Unable to retreat from the malignant presence of his lord, because he had not been dismissed, Routaro's mind began to relax and drift along, daring to believe he would survive this day. He almost jumped out of his amphibian skin, however, when that silky voice filtered out of the darkness again, voicing instructions to him.

"Very good," Naraku's voice gained slight volume, "Kohaku. Kagura. To me."

After barely a breath, the two presented themselves before their master, kneeling with every appearance of humility. Kagura's stiffly held spine, though, screamed her defiance, and her anger that she was powerless to indulge her hatred. The boy, Kohaku-his eyes were vacant, indicating any act of humility, real or feigned, was simply beyond his capacity. He was a puppet, blank and empty, and as such was unable to bestow or withhold loyalty. He simply existed-and served.

"You two will be going on a little mission. Routaro here will lead you. I will, of course, provide enough...distractions...for even you to succeed," Kagura visibly bristled at his snide tone, but he continued on, ignoring the withering glare his detachment aimed his way.

Over the next few minutes Naraku issued orders and outlined his objectives but, as always, withheld his reasons for the sudden mission. He had been uncharacteristically edgy these past two days, though none could safely speculate as to why. For the past six months Naraku had been content to patiently wait for information from his vast network of spies. Now he had abruptly instigated a flurry of activities, culminating in this battle plan. Judging by the force set to accompany them, Routaro felt it was safe to wager whatever the hanyou and his miko possessed, his own diabolical master was avid to steal away.

"Hai, oyakata-sama," he acknowledged his dismissal and, touching his forehead to the floor, carefully backed out of the room. Naraku's favorite pets simply rose and followed him on his way out of the mansion.

Once the group was beyond the barrier that hid his master from the world, Routaro sucked in a deep breath of blessedly miasma-free air, thankful he was still breathing at all. With what Naraku had planned for Inuyasha and his troop, Routaro felt almost sorry for them. At least he was only required to act as guide-no fighting for him, thank you very much. Ah, well, he thought, setting his feet back in the direction of the hanyou's group, better them than me.

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Now that his puppets had left, Naraku turned his thoughts once again to the single event that had precipitated his sudden resurgence into battle mode. That night, two days ago now, replayed before his mind's eye, and he sifted over the many implications.

Raising his hand before him, he gazed once again at the skin of his palm, still slightly puckered from the scorching power of the inexplicably purified Shikon tucked safely within the loose folds of his haori. After his close brush with accidental purification, Naraku did not want to risk a repeat with the now unstable jewel, so kept his demon body out of direct contact with it.

Since the Shikon had activated, Naraku had pondered why it had appeared, for that brief moment prior to its release of power, to be whole once again. The possible meaning of such a vision set his evil heart racing in anticipation. Someone had found the final piece, and the jewel had called out to all of its parts. It craved completion. He could almost taste the dark, twisted power of a wholly tainted Shikon no Tama.

Beautiful.

Frustratingly, though, the stone did not revert back to its dark, corrupted state. Once it had been so mysteriously purified, it had retained its unnaturally unsullied pink-white glow. Naraku grimaced in distaste, feeling the prickle of the Shikon no Tama's aura prodding at his black heart, trying to extend its purifying properties to him. Almost worse than his having his treasured bauble remain incomplete was seeing the current state it was in.

Clean.

However, very few circumstances could adequately explain why the large portion of the Shikon he carried with him, blackened by his wickedness since the first moment he touched it, had suddenly been rendered pure. The only viable explanation that came to mind was that someone had activated the full power of the jewel.

He had thought so the other night as he watched, awestruck from behind the safety of his barrier, as the blinding white light flared out in a shockwave of pure destruction. Because the stone had been cleansed of his venomous taint, Naraku drew the obvious conclusion that the wielder of the power was not a demon. Logic dictated the next step in the argument was that someone in possession of holy powers of purification had to be the culprit. In other words, a miko. That left only Kikyou, his lovely, bitter beauty, whom he had unfortunately had to put out of her misery.

Lucky for him, though, Kikyou had been thoughtful enough to leave behind a replacement in the form of her reincarnation. The little spitfire had thus far proved to be a bit more troublesome than her incarnate had been, but Naraku had confidence that once he got that bastard hanyou Inuyasha out of the way, the strangely delectable miko would be easy prey.

His lips curved into a smile of delighted anticipation as the evil being ruminated on the knowledge that, at long last, he was only one step away from completing a quest fifty years in the making. Soon, the Shikon no Tama and all of its power would be his, and he would reshape the world to his own desires.

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A week had passed since Sesshoumaru had awoken to find himself miraculously whole again.

You would think that would put the one blessed in a good mood, Jaken thought sourly, but his master seemed even quicker to take offense than usual.

The ugly little retainer huffed in indignation, rubbing the site of his most recent indignity. On the back of his bald, green head was a footprint, and if one were to compare it to the elegant footwear the Lord of the Western Lands was currently sporting, it would probably be a match.

Jaken glared over his shoulder at the cause of his suffering, who remained oblivious, quietly walking behind Sesshoumaru, wide brown eyes taking in the surrounding forest-namely the wildflowers lining the path. All he had suggested was that the dirty little human should perhaps be left behind in one of the villages, to speed their progress, of course. His master did seem to view this new quest as somewhat more pressing than most other business (except Naraku), after all. And yet, without warning or explanation of what loyal old Jaken could have said to anger his noble master so, he found a noble foot firmly planted in the back of his head. To add to the humiliation, that little toadstool Rin had followed in Sesshoumaru-sama's footsteps-right over his frail, prone body.

"Sesshoumaru-sama! Sesshoumaru-sama!" he called, scrambling so his little legs could keep pace with the long-limbed lord. "There appears to be a village ahead, Sesshoumaru-sama," he announced importantly, as if his master could not see the tiny hamlet, nested picturesquely among rice paddies in the near distance, smoke curling lazily from the roofs of the neat huts. A large red torii rose at one end of the village, weatherbeaten and standing silent sentinel at the base of a flight of high stone steps.

"If it would please you, I will go ahead and make inquiries on your behalf." The youkai's huge yellow eyes shone with devotion, and if he had been in possession of a tail, it surely would have been wagging in the dust.

Sesshoumaru stopped so abruptly that Rin bounced off the backs of his knees, but he did not so much as sway from the impact. Instead, he gazed dispassionately down at his over-eager servant, weighing the likelihood of Jaken's success at retrieving any useful information if left to his own devices. Seeming to sense his master's indecision, Jaken spoke quickly, his voice oily with unfeigned obsequiousness.

"Sesshoumaru-sama, you should not lower yourself to speak with lowly villagers. I will ferret out the information you require." His little chest puffed up with confidence in his ability to retrieve what his noble lord so inexplicably desired: the current location of that filthy hanyou, Inuyasha.

" `Speak'," Sesshoumaru repeated dryly, one pale, slender brow raised, "I would not speak to these peasants to gain the information I require."

Arrogance steeped the arid words and lent an edge of promised violence to them. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Rin shiver at the menace in his tone. Blast it, he thought, sighing inwardly, knowing he was going to back down to spare the tiny girl anxiety. He didn't say he was going to actually kill anyone, simply encourage a little...motivation.

He nodded once, shortly, at Jaken, who hurriedly scuttled down the path to prove himself to his master. Before he could go far, though, Sesshoumaru's cold voice cut through the humid air like a knife, halting him in his steps.

"Jaken," the name was spoken like a lash, "if you fail me, I'll feed you to A-Un...piece by slimy green piece."

"Y-yes, Sesshoumaru-sama!" was the only reply the vassal gave-the only acceptable reply. He scurried impossibly faster, almost tripping in his haste to complete his task quickly and efficiently.

The taiyoukai watched the bobbing of the Staff of Heads for a moment, until it disappeared at the base of the small rise he was standing on, though his acute senses could still track the toad's musty smell. Sesshoumaru turned his attention to Rin.

Why did he allow this snotty, dirty child to travel with him, again? True, she never complained, and obeyed his every utterance to the letter. She foraged for her own food, or he had Jaken do so for her, and she had yet to fall ill. However, she was still undeniably human, and as such was subject to the particular squeamishness of her kind.

She was also inarguably weak and he had found himself required to rescue her sorry skin on more than one occasion. Why he did so still eluded him, other than the obvious reason that she was his-he claimed rightful dominion over her the moment he swung Tenseiga and her heart resumed beating. She needed someone to protect her. If he, her master, didn't safeguard her, who would?

Maybe that is your answer, taunted an impertinent voice.

Bah! He retaliated. He was not required to explain himself to anyone-not even to himself.

The girl had remained quiet during his inner dialogue, though she fidgeted slightly, patiently awaiting a cue from him. She gazed up at him with those huge, trusting eyes filled with adoration and something he preferred not to name. It was that same something he avoided thinking about upon waking from that damned aggravating dream. To acknowledge it would be to invite weakness, and to invite weakness was to court disaster. He had learned the harsh lessons of so-called `love' early and well, and did not intend to repeat the mistakes of his sire.

Besides, if he needed proof that love was a failing, all he had to do was point out his worthless half-breed brother's relationships with humans. Not once, but twice he had allowed the devious creatures near, and as a reward was constantly staving off attacks from his enemies. Naraku had killed the first female, who had then gone after her former lover's soul (a ringing endorsement for everlasting love, indeed). She then had always aimed for the living wench-the replacement.

In a moment of brutal honesty, though, Sesshoumaru had to admit that, on those occasions when the strangely-dressed miko had been his target, she had always managed to escape him somehow.

Sheer luck, he scoffed, but deep within himself, he suspected it was something other than simple good fortune that had saved her from his attacks. Something outside and above the meager abilities she normally displayed in battle. She had, after all, shattered his armor, drawn blood...and undone Tessaiga's transformation. Which was why he was currently pursuing her, methodically tracking rumors of Inuyasha's passing, hunting the woman most likely to be the one of power appearing by his increasingly detailed dreams.

Sesshoumaru turned on his heel and began his progress back the way they had already traveled. About one quarter of a mile back, they had passed a good-sized field of flowers, the plucking of which should keep his ward occupied and-most importantly-quiet for some time.

"Rin," he said, "come."

And she did, her chubby little legs keeping pace with his shortened strides (though he would never admit to doing so), happy to be alone with her hero. She clucked her tongue to make certain A-Un followed, then raced off squealing when they arrived at the small clearing.

Settling himself against the base of a tree, Sesshoumaru watched Rin dash madly from flower to flower, exclaiming at one's color and shape before bounding off to the inspect another that caught her eye on the other side. For several minutes, the taiyoukai followed her ricocheting progress from one side of the field to the other, a strangely buoyant calm settling over his heart at the sound of her tiny voice piping in joyous exclamation from time to time. He let her young, vibrant energy wash over his senses in the same manner the dappled sunlight washed over his skin, and he felt the tension of the last week ebb away.

Almost against his will, though he could not seem to halt it, his mind turned to the reason for his unusual irritability. Contrary to his expectations, the month of repeating dreams had not ended the night his missing arm had been restored. Instead, it marked the beginning of a string of variegated repeats, with increasingly elaborate mutations on the original.

Each dream began the same, but from the moment the woman appeared on the dream horizon, the events grew more involved and detailed, his senses taking in more impressions. Touches became more intimate and almost painfully electric (he now remembered vividly the smooth, silken texture of her skin as it glided across his); looks exchanged were longer and fraught with mysterious meaning (although he could read the intense heat in her dark eyes easily enough as desire).

And he knew what was going to happen at the end. As much as he and the mysterious miko's increasingly familiar and (he shuddered to think it) tender interactions deviated from the original, Inuyasha's role never changed by so much as a twitch.

At the end of every night, no matter how many times the bloody sequence had repeated itself, no matter that he knew he would gain no new answers from the vision, he could not stop himself from asking who she was. As if that were a cue, she would proceed with her `information': ripping her own delicate flesh with his claw, showing him the Shikon jewel, then Inuyasha rising behind her, face blank and wooden, to deliver the death blow.

Every night, he would howl his grief and rage to the stars, then wake up in a cold sweat, hands trembling slightly and breath coming in harsh gasps. Every night he would calm his racing heart and scoff at his own weakness, convincing himself that the emotions he felt during the dream were nothing more than phantoms; unreal and unwanted. Yet he found himself dreading the onset of night, having to talk himself into dozing, arguing against himself that no, he was not avoiding sleep to avoid the dream. He was not avoiding her. It was becoming more and more difficult to win the debate.

And so he would waken each dawn, finding himself more irritable than the day before, each dream winding him tighter and tighter. His control, once so effortless, was strained to the limit. It was a wonder Jaken was still among the living. He told himself that the abominable effect the vision was having on his self-restraint, surely the work of some evil spell, was the only reason he felt such a burning need to locate the witch as soon as possible. She was interfering with his peace. She was interfering with his life. She was not interfering with his heart.

While the coldly beautiful being readily admitted, at least to himself, that he did possess said organ, the arrogant taiyoukai scoffed at the notion that it was affecting his current judgement. He, Sesshoumaru, Lord of the Western Lands and son of the Great Demon Inutaisho, did not feel anything so mundane, so plebeian, as emotion for a weak, worthless human wench. A human wench from a dream, no less. He was not even certain she truly existed, though the evidence of his left arm suddenly being in existence seemed to provide proof of some sort of vast power at work.

So he determined to find the miko whose power promised to allow him to wield the Tessaiga as soon as possible. He would end these aggravating dreams once and for all. Then, he was certain, his heart would be at peace once more, safe from emotional incursion behind his walls of iron control.

Alone, a forlorn voice whispered regretfully.

Safe, he shot back, though without the force of conviction he would have displayed a week ago.

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Sess: WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ?!?

TT: Now, calm down. It's called `introspection'-helps illustrate the changes you're going through. Makes you appear more approachable. *grins slyly* More human.

Sess: HUMAN ?!? *eyes turn red, scripts and props begin flying around the set in tempest of youki* I. AM. NOT. HUMAN !!!

TT: Yes, yes, I can see that. Did you steal more chocolate from Shippou? *ducks as a villager goes whizzing past her head* Hey! Watch the extras! I gotta pay insurance on them, y'know.

Sess: *growls and raises a green, glowing, clawed hand* You promised I could kill something soon...I think I'll start with you.

TT: Eep! Chapter 7! Chapter 7! I swear! *streaks off set fast enough to impress Kouga*

Sess: *reigns in youki and drops claws* Hah! I knew that would motivate her to keep writing. *smiles and slowly strolls back to his trailer* Reviewing helps motivate her, too, so you know what to do.

FF.net Reviews:

Chillkat, VicFan, Tigress Moon, & Caley: Thanks as always for the support (and praise)! I love getting short little notes just letting me know people are reading!

Shina-schatten: Thank you so much! Readers seem to be divided 50/50 on the opening dream: they either love it or hate it. *sigh* It's discouraging because the whole plot ties in to the dream (hint, hint). I wasn't trying to be so confusing there, but I get this really warm feeling when someone tells me they like it (even if they don't quite `get it').

Ranmagirl7: Oh no! Poor Inuyasha, whatever will he do without his oversized phallic symbol?!? Don't worry, I have (*ahem*) big plans for that little development! (Ah! I'm so bad! Bad puns! Bad puns!) And, you are now on my update list! Yay! Thanks for the love!

Soudesuka-Shurikens: ROTFL...OMG! Narcolepsy (yes, I think that is the correct sp)! I about busted a rib when I read that. If Kagome is narcoleptic, then we know Sesshoumaru has Irritable Bowel Syndrome (you know, chronically constipated, even though we all love him that way), and what, Inuyasha is a necrophiliac? That would explain the whole Kikyou thing. Hmmm...what disease would excuse Miroku's wandering hands? Or Sango's fixation with that giant boomerang? You've given me a lot to think about...lol!

Youkai Yume: Thanks for the love! He's here...I let you get your fix. Was it good for you? LOL Well, fear not, I've got...plans...for Fluffy. (He's not exactly pleased about them, but I'm here to please the readers, not his High-And-Mighty-Hotness.)

Aki no Yume: Yikes! Still muddying the waters, am I? So sorry! I'm working on clarifying it, I SWEAR! I hope the AN at the beginning helped a little, and the next couple of chapters will bring more things to light (head's up: NEXT CHAPTER IS CRITICAL!!!). If I told you all my plans, who would bother reading this? LOL Really, though, Ch. 6 should explain a lot, and I welcome speculations-they inspire me! Thanks for the characterization appreciation!

Kmf: Yeah, I was a I/K fan, too, until I read "A Means to an End". Then it was an almost about-face for me-satisfied that part of me which lusts after Sess, and if I can't have him, then the least I can do is live vicariously through Kagome and love it when she get him! (Yes, I'm sad.) But, yeah, I thought about following the really easy route and writing Inu completely out of the picture by developing a `you hurt me so now I hate you' thing between Inu & Kag, but I just couldn't do it. I mean, yeah, Inuyasha is rude and immature and repressed and had serious ex-girlfriend issues, but he really is too warm and lovable and protective/possessive of Kagome to write off their relationship so easily. I think it's not quite in Kagome's nature to let him go so easily. As they age, though, she gains self-respect and Inu gains perspective, and their relationship develops into that deep bond of love we call true friendship. And I wanted to bring up the way Kikyou died as a device to sort of emphasize Inuyasha's continued devotion to Kikyou, a reminder of his choice-sort of clarify that the I/K relationship would not work as a romance because of it (in this fic, anyway).

Gina (): Yeah, I know my style isn't for everyone (and I've got the flames to prove it), but I just can't stop myself from descriptive prose. I'm working on that, in this fic anyway, because it bogs down the action, but for the most part it's who I am. Hope the rest of the chapters keep you interested-I've got absolutely evil plans for Sesshoumaru! *grins and rubs hands together in anticipation*

MM.org Reviews

Lady Sesshoumaru: Do you believe it? How dare someone flame me? Me?!? *snorts* Yeah, it's a free country and well, it's not like I pay any attention to the bad opinions. Constructive criticism is great, even appreciated, but nothing beats all-out praise! *bows in humble gratitude* Like yours! I'm not worthy! Thank you! I hope I don't disappoint you in the future!

Eqlipse-Moon: Hmmm...lemon, you say? Why I never thought of that! (Yeah, right!) I'm trying to work up to it...just a little more patience. My nerve isn't as steely when it comes to writing about sex (now, imagining sex is another kettle of fish...), and I tend to be shy about it. I mean, what if my husband reads it? *gasp of horror* He may get...ideas...! LOL

adorable akane: Aren't they the best? *sighs dreamily* All that long hair...and the eyes and the fangs and the claws...urgh. I'm not sick, really!

Tom: Thanks! I take it my formatting is fixed now? LOL Seriously, though. High praise indeed that someone isn't complaining about a slow-moving plot or cliffies (a fetish of mine)!

Flambeau-Willow: *bows repeatedly* Thank you thank you! Yea! Someone else who recognises my *ahem* circuitous plot line as a deliberate, gradual building of facts/events-in other words, `suspense'. Either that, or you've seen my outline for the story (which my muse wakes me up at 2 am nightly to add to) scattered over 20 pages. (Hey! At least it exists!) I hope the rest of the story holds up to your expectations! (No pressure. Really. *sweatdrops*)