InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Fall ❯ Fall ( Chapter 1 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Fall by Hikari Hime
 
 
Setting : Canon Universe
Genre: General
Pairing: Sesshomaru / Kagome
Rating: K+
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1226
 
A/N: This one shot is not linked whatsoever with any of my other stories. It's a gift for the holiday exchange proposed and managed by MomoDesu for my friend and talented 'colleague' Tallymark. I hope you'll enjoy.. This piece was also beta-ed by our most esteemed 'host' MomoDesu. This is some sort of crossover, but, to avoid spoiling the fun, I won't name the other manga in my usual disclaimer. I leave it to you to figure it out. Nevertheless, I don't own it.
 
Disclaimer: Inuyasha is the property of Takahashi Rumiko-sensei. My only profit in using its characters and background story is in imagining the smiles and other agreeable emotions it may elicit in the people who read this meager piece or writing.
 
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Muffled voices resonated in the cramped room, caressing his consciousness without enlightening him about his current location. Pains and aches cutting through the grayish fog of his usually sharp mind reminded him that the last hours of his life had been drenched in battles and blood.

But that was far from unusual for this particular being.

He was a warrior, wearing a blade like others wore their own limbs and sleeping with one eye open, when he did sleep at all. He had discarded his bone armor a few centuries ago, but only because he didn't really need it anymore.

After all, he was invincible... or so he had thought.

But he had made a mistake, one that he had made only once a few centuries ago. He had underestimated his opponent. Thankfully this time it didn't cost him a limb, but it very nearly cost him his own life.

He had heard the rumors about this particular assassin, but he had payed it no mind. After all, he was in hiding among humans, and they were nothing but weaklings.

But this one... Well, he suspected he was far from mortal, with the red hair and amethyst gaze, but he had smelled like any other of them; like death, sweat and perhaps a little like the red flowers of a plum tree blooming in winter, but that was beside the point.

The point was that he, Sesshomaru, had almost been killed. What a bother.

And now he was lying there, an itch on his injuries informing him that they had been tended to, his sky-blue haori neatly folded near the head of the nondescript futon he was occupying in this small six-tatami room. He listened more carefully to the voices, one feminine he found somewhat familiar, and the other masculine, rough and uncivilised.

''There is no Saito-san here, O-Samurai-sama, nor have I seen any member of the Shinsengumi wander into these secluded parts of the woods. Now, if you please, I have some herbs to take out to dry, and I cannot afford to be disturbed when preparing the remedies my numerous patients require.'' Her voice was firm, but she couldn't hide the softness coating her very soul.

''Alright, alright Miss. Don't get your knickers in a twist. I was just asking. If you hear about anything, I expect you know where to find us. Good evening, Miko.'' The last word was uttered with a derisive snort, the title stripped of the respect it normally evoked.

''I know where you are, yes,'' she replied, the hidden youkai smirking at the evasiveness of her response.

A shuffling later, the woman entered the room, two scabbards in her left hand and a cup or steaming tea in the other, the quiet concentration of her grey-blue eyes lighting with mirth when she noticed his awareness.

''Sesshomaru,'' she greeted him, a smile teasing her lips.

''Kagome,'' he replied sternly, frowning slightly when the scent of the herbal remedy tickled his sensitive nose. ''What is it you bring to this Sesshomaru?''

''Something to make you sleep. You need to rest to recover fully. Nothing will reach you here, so you have all the time in the world to heal properly.'' He was fascinated by the full-blown smile adorning her mouth.

He hadn't seen anybody this... happy in a long while and he admitted, if only to himself, that he had missed it. In his century-old memory, an orange checkered kimono flashed, accompanied by the brightness of a child's laughter.

His jaws clenched almost painfully.

''This Sesshomaru does not need your human beverage, wench,'' he nearly spat at her.

A knowing gleam entered her sapphire orbs, as she reminisced about her long-lost love, lost to time while she had remained unchanged, silver hair, golden eyes... stubbornness and a fiery temper matching her own. She grinned at the fallen ancient Lord. It figures he would end as one of the feared Mibu Wolves.

''Those,'' she said with a wide gesture encompassing the steaming cup and the bandages on his many wounds, ''are youkai remedies I found at Jinenji's home. I am a healer, and I treat humans and youkai alike. It makes no difference to me what species you are, you are hurt, and you will not leave my home until you have nothing left marring your otherwise perfect being.'' Sarcasm dripped from her sentence, but her gaze spoke of fondness and old times.

A slow exhale, what could have been named a soft sigh if it was not Sesshomaru we were speaking about, escaped him and he relented to her will, too weary to fight with her right now. He drank the draught slowly and lied back down.

As the blackness claimed him, he felt the gentle touch of her hands on his chest as she lifted the blankets to his chin to keep him warm.

As time passed and days succeeded to one another the battle-weary warlord settled down more comfortably into the warm home of the former miko, until one morning the only traces left of the old cuts were pink slightly raised skin, scars that would fade in a short while.

The youkai had adorned his blue-sky haori again, intend on arriving back to Kyoto before the sun would hit the highest point of it's course. He had focused to bring his hair back to it's more human colour and had dulled the metallic gold of his eyes, mellowing it to a dark hazel.

The warmth of a hand reached him before he could go, and the woman, Kagome, spoke his name, her melodic voice coating the violent undertones of its meaning with an affection he was sure he had not earned during the long centuries he had existed.

After all, Love and Death were not meant to live side by side.

''Will you come back next year, when the first snow falls?'' In her clear eyes, a silent plea could be seen.

''Why?'' he wanted to know.

''It's Christmas. I know you don't care about human holidays, but it's a time when families come together... just, well, to enjoy each other's company. To share memories of the past and hopes for the future. You are the only family I have left, Onii-san.'' She smiled, the happiness not quite reaching the blue of her gaze.

He snorted.

''Ridiculous. This Sesshomaru, as you said, does not abide to your foolish human customs.'' He turned his ramrod-straight back to her form, not willing to see the moisture gathered at the corner of her oh-so innocent eyes. ''How fitting that such a worthless species would choose a particular date to be happy, and not 'enjoy the moment', as you named it, for the remainder of the year.''

He looked back at her from over his shoulder, and she could swear she saw the corner of his lips lifted into the first genuine smile she had even seen on this particular male's handsome face.

''This Sesshomaru will come back, Kagome, but 'when' will not be decided by a mere date of the western calendar.''

She grinned back then, joy warming her heart from within as he sauntered gracefully away, surrounded by a halo of self-confidence and mystery. She was glad then, that whatever happened, even as time passed and centuries went by, some things never changed.