InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Quadrangle ❯ Indecision ( Chapter 6 )

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Disclaimer: Inuyasha is owned by Rumiko Takahashi.

 

Chapter 6 - Indecision

 

Perched high in the boughs of an ancient magnolia tree, Sesshomaru adjusted the girl in his lap so that he had easy access to the wounds on her neck. If someone had told him one month ago that he would be attempting to heal a miko of his own poison, he would have wasted no time in slitting his throat with his claws. He could blame it on human blood all he wanted, but it didn't change the fact that he was doing it. He could have chosen not to and borne Rin's tears like a taiyoukai, but instead, here he was, in the tree. As much as he wanted to believe that he was doing this for Rin, or returning a favor, as he'd told the humans, neither excuse was quite accurate. He had become accustomed to the little miko, as he'd grown used to Rin, and found that he'd rather have her around than not.

 

He shook his head; he may be inured to her, but he certainly didn't want her with him. He was helping her in order to repay the debt of her attentions when he'd been injured and she needed to live in order to return him to his rightful form. That was all.

 

Now that he was confronted with her terrible wounds, he was at a loss of how to start. He scowled, disliking the feeling that was worming its way into his gut, disheartening and slimy. Pushing it away impatiently, he tightened his hold on the girl who was beginning to tremble slightly. He would have to rely on his instincts to guide him, a part of him that he'd suppressed and ignored for centuries.

 

Closing his eyes and clearing his mind, he bent over her and inhaled her chamomile scent, tainted by poison and decay. It disgusted him, and he shuddered in revulsion, his hackles rising at the fact that she'd been subjected to this degradation. His tongue was on her neck before the thought had finished, lapping the oozing wounds of the discharge that had collected. Bitter and acrid, he spat it out before cleaning deeper into the cuts, trying to encourage healthy blood to flow and carry what he hoped were the healing properties of his saliva into her body.

 

Blood began to seep sluggishly to the surface but it was dirty and noxious. The infection had spread too far for an antidote to work through the original wounds, he realized. Pulling his lips off of his teeth, he exposed sharp fangs and pressed them against the swollen, feverish flesh. Her skin broke with a gentle pop under his teeth, relatively clean blood welling into his mouth. He swallowed reflexively, worrying the punctures into tiny tears and liberally bathing it with his raspy tongue.

 

She whimpered and he took it as a good sign, creating several more small holes next to the long gashes on her neck and licking them until they stopped bleeding. Inuyasha had indeed inherited the poison antidote; already, the swelling was reduced, the flesh not quite so hot to the touch. Kagome was beginning to thrash feebly against him, a sure sign that she was returning to the land of the living. His tongue reached the punctures on her chest, laving them of infection even as the anti-venom destroyed the poison.

 

It wasn't until after he'd drawn back to examine the progress of her injuries that he'd realized what he'd done and remembered why this form of healing was only practiced among mates. He'd bitten her several times, and though they weren't mating marks, the scent-marks branded her as his.

 

Once he'd ceased the ministrations of his tongue, she relaxed in his arms, falling into a deep, peaceful slumber. She still burned with fever but the black veins had stayed their ascent, some retreating and others fading altogether. The wounds would scar; she would bear them for the rest of her life as a testament to her very close brush with death, but they were healing cleanly and probably would leave only the faintest of silver lines. They would not be ugly, he decided, perhaps even interesting to look upon. It would please him to spend long moments tracing those scars with the tip of his tongue, eliciting pleasurable sighs from her instead of ragged, hurting moans.

 

A twig softly snapped below his perch, marking the passing of some small creature. It would have been inaudible to humans, but Sesshomaru's ears swiveled to catch the sound, jarring him out of his disturbingly graphic thoughts. Had he just been considering rutting with a human female?

 

The branch next to him rustled quietly just before two verdant eyes blinked at him from the magnolia blossoms. He gave the owner of those eyes an bored glance as he shifted the girl so that the kitsune could see her face. Relief burst from the kit in a great, shuddering rush of air and a splatter of tears, but before he could latch onto her, Sesshomaru snatched him up by his tail.

 

“She will live but she is far from well,” he warned the exuberant fox child as he swung from his hand. “Do not jump on her.”

 

“But-“

 

“This Sesshomaru does not repeat himself.”

 

Shippo went limp, responding to his growl and showing proper respect for an alpha male. “You saved her,” he whispered reverently, limpid eyes in swimming in moisture, roving over the nasty cuts in her skin, and then sniffed curiously. “And you marked her with your scent.“

 

“It was necessary, but is not my scent that marks her.”

 

Shaking his head, Shippo sent his body swinging again. “I smell Inuyasha on her, but you, I mean the real you, on her too. And not from the poison.”

 

Sesshomaru's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Setting Shippo on the branch next to him, he smelled the flesh he had been treating, and just as the kit had said, his scent was strong on her closest to the bites; his scent, not the hanyou's. He pulled back, eyes distant as he puzzled over this, his face unconsciously settling into a small frown. Their souls had moved bodies; the powers, voice, scent all stayed with the body that the soul had abandoned. How could it be that his scent was in the wounds?

 

A mating mark was permanent and connected two youkai's souls and youki, but a scent-mark was a temporary thing, meant only to show claim on a particular female, such as a mistress or concubine, and would fade if not reinforced. He'd always thought that it was a superficial mark, had never noticed anything deep or binding about it. Then again, he'd never bitten a female while in the body of someone else.

 

He supposed it wasn't such a bad thing, to own this woman. She was unusual for her species and hadn't he condemned his brother's care for her many times? He curled a finger under chin, tilting her head so that that moonlight played across her features, highlighting her cheekbones and caressing her lips. Even sallow and drawn, she seemed to glow with an unearthly light just below her skin. More soothing than threatening, it offered a solace that he didn't know he'd been missing. Innocence, purity and beauty wrapped in a sweet smile that hid a core of power and strength of heart. His brother didn't deserve her loyalty.

 

“What are you gonna do with her?” Shippo asked quietly, resting a front paw on the curtain of midnight hair that flowed over Sesshomaru's arm. He would follow Kagome to the ends of the earth, but if Sesshomaru took her, what would become of him? Would he let him stay with her?

 

“Return to Rin and wait for us there,” he said, his voice commanding and sure, belying the consternation that the kit's question had induced. What to do with her, indeed? He did not need another mortal companion tailing him on his patrols, requiring sustenance and rest, and the kit would insist on accompanying his guardian. However, she could take over some of Rin's care and Shippo would be a better playmate than Jaken.

 

She sighed softly in her sleep, snuggling against his warmth and his mind latched onto the feel of her body pressing against his, under his, turning her sighs into cries, her slight movements into writhing. His blood surged as his heart began to race and he froze, disgust with himself warring with the desire to take her, make this fantasy a reality. `She's human!' he screamed at himself, his fingers tightening on her chin, under her knees. He was suddenly quite aware of how short her skirt was, how easy it would be to plunder her then and there. `This Sesshomaru would not lower himself to such depravity.'

 

His inner voice laughed mockingly. `Wouldn't you?'

 

Sesshomaru growled and shifted her weight to relieve the pressure on certain disloyal parts of his body. `Dirty, vile, worthless creature,' he almost grumbled out loud, feeling like a pup who had been caught raiding the sweets pantry and instead of taking responsibility for his actions, decides to blame the pantry for his punishment.

 

`You don't believe that, else you wouldn't have saved her life.'

 

True, Sesshomaru conceded. Even Rin wouldn't have been able to convince him to save the life of someone he despised. `She's my brother's wench,' he argued, but it sounded hollow in his head. When had he ever cared whether or not something belonged to that idiot? Inuyasha had only been allowed to keep Tetsusaiga for so long because he'd discovered the reason his father had given it to him: to prevent his demonic blood from turning him into a mindless killer.

 

He huffed, giving silent voice to his indecision and frustration. He should have let Ah-Un die; he should have let the girl die. He neither wanted nor needed these complications in his life.

 

XxxxxxxX

 

Kagome became aware of her surroundings little by little as the muffling blackness lifted from her mind: the scratchy roughness of fabric underneath her cheek, the warm weight of a small body curled up at her stomach, the pop and crackle of a fire on dry wood, the murmur of soft voices behind her. Miroku and Sango, deep in conversation, discussing an injured friend. How sad, she thought. Their friend had almost died and still wouldn't wake. Life could be so unfair, sometimes. Who was it? She couldn't remember any mutual friends of theirs who had gotten ill recently.

 

Turning her head to ask, she was hit by a wave of nausea as each muscle and joint screamed in agony. She couldn't help the groan or the tears that slipped between her eyelids to run down her cheeks.

 

“Kagome?” Shippo was awake instantly, burrowing out of the den made by her body and sleeping roll to stare at her face. “Are you okay?” At Shippo's anxious question, Sango and Miroku snapped to attention and rushed to her side. Sango brushed her forehead, her lips pursing as Kagome groaned again.

 

“She's still feverish. Kagome, can you hear me?”

 

Kagome tried to nod and failed miserably, her head throbbing with each beat of her heart, her neck protesting with a fierce twinge. She settled for an “uh huh,” as close to words as she could get without having to do anything more than moan.

 

“Miroku, hand me Lady Akina's potion,” Sango said as she slipped an arm under the girl's shoulders and propped her up on her lap. “I'll see if I can get her to drink. Shippo, go find Sesshomaru-sama.” More tears leaked out of Kagome's eyes as her body was jostled, each movement sending sharp stabs of pain through her body until she thought she would pass out. Thankfully, it was over soon and she swallowed reflexively as a warm liquid filled her mouth. Even swallowing hurt, but the liquid coated her dry throat and sent a heat through her body that almost made her feel human again.

 

She dragged her eyes open, blinking against the harsh light of the fire. Sango's face swam into focus, eyes shadowed and lined with sleepless nights, and her own pain was partially forgotten.

 

“Sango, what's-“ Kagome managed before she choked on her tongue, swollen, cottony, and sticking to the roof of her mouth.

 

“Thank kami you're okay,” Sango burst out, dropping her chin against her chest to hide the tears that filled her eyes. Miroku put an arm around her shaking shoulders and gave a watery smile to the groggy girl lying in her lap.

 

“Where's Inuyasha?” she whispered. His face was glaringly absent and it sent a chill through her, freezing her to the marrow of her bones. Why wasn't he there?

 

Miroku refused to meet her eyes, suddenly finding something fascinating about the grain of the floorboards. “Do you remember what happened?” he asked after a long moment. She was saved from answering by Shippo and Rin tearing through the entrance and sending the mat flapping into the wall.

 

“Do not jump on her,” Sesshomaru's voice floated through the door just before he did and the two exuberant children skidded to a halt, Shippo windmilling his arms to prevent himself from falling on her legs. Sesshomaru stopped behind the children and stared down at her with an inscrutable expression in his amber eyes.

 

Kagome's heart skipped a beat before she remembered that the hanyou before her was really Sesshomaru. Then where was Inuyasha? Her eyes searched the darkness behind him, scoured the shadows in the corners of the hut. “Where is he?” she repeated, her throat burning and cracking with the effort.

 

Brushing bangs from Kagome's forehead, Sango gently shushed her. “We don't know, Kagome. We were hoping you could tell us.”

 

“No…” she whispered, confusion clouding her face as moisture filled her eyes. He was always with her when she was sick or injured. What could have happened that not even Sango or Miroku didn't know? Was he okay?

 

Sesshomaru watched the girl cry silently, the salt of her tears stinging his nostrils and fanning his rising irritation that she was grieving over he who almost took her life. His stoic, unfeeling mask was beginning to crack and he moved to her side, using the need to check her wounds as an excuse to touch her, knowing that as the male who had scent-marked her, his touch would offer some measure of comfort. He didn't care if she suffered, he told himself sternly; he just wanted her to stop crying. Those tears, they were shredding his carefully maintained control with each silvery trail down her cheek.

 

Carefully peeling back the bandages that covered her throat and the top of her chest, he was relieved when her tears slowed and her breathing steadied. The five red slashes that marred the pale flesh of her throat were oozing clear fluids but were no longer puffy and veined with poison. His own marks were already closed, no more than pink dots to show his claim. He took a moment to marvel at her ability to heal before pressing fingers to the lips of the cuts to see if they still held traces of poison or infection. Only the clear fluid, mixed with a little clean blood, seeped to the surface. How he wanted to lick it clean, maybe reopen a couple of his own marks, his salivary glands working to produce more of the precious antidote. He would have if he did not have an audience. As it was, the humans had not gotten a good look at the wounds and did not realize what he'd done. He was content to let them remain in blissful ignorance.

 

Sesshomaru's fingers prodded at her neck, firm but gentle and somehow soothing. He touched an especially sore spot and she bit her lip against crying out, a vivid memory of pain lancing her throat swimming to the surface of her mind, claws poised over her chest, golden eyes frigid with accusation. She'd taken a bath, then tried to scrub… something… off of her skin, she couldn't quite remember what and it nagged at her like hangnail being pulled through a sweater. Inuyasha had found her and had been furious. She shuddered, remembering again how his claws scored her skin, the chain biting into her flesh as he tore the jewel from her neck. “He left me,” she whimpered, her hand creeping up to rest where the jewel should have been and brushing against fresh bandaging.

 

“Did he take it?” Miroku asked quietly. Kagome nodded mutely, squeezing her eyes shut as hot tears scalded her cheeks. After all that they been through together, after all of his promises, he'd abandoned her for something she hadn't even done. Hadn't she?

 

“Don't cry, Kagome,” Shippo pleaded and patted her foot. He was so tired of seeing her cry over that baka. She deserved so much more: a male who wouldn't belittle her or call her names, who wouldn't compare her to anyone else, who wouldn't sneak off to see other women while she slept, who would cherish her instead of hurt her.

 

“What do you mean, he left you?” Sesshomaru asked quietly, dangerously, pulling the attention of everyone to his burning eyes, but he was staring at Kagome. He'd always assumed that his brother would return to the girl so had not protested when he went off with his body to meet the undead miko. He'd seen no reason to tether the hanyou to himself; he was annoying and obnoxious and if he'd been in his company the entire time, Sesshomaru would surely have been driven to violence. Perhaps he had been mistaken to let him have free rein.

 

“I mean that he left me,” Kagome shivered, her body suddenly cold as if immersed in ice water. His fingers were no longer calming; they hummed with tension and fury and she was suddenly very nervous. “I think…I think that he finally chose Kikyou.”

 

“You don't think he'll try to restore the jewel to reclaim his body, do you?” Sango exclaimed heatedly. “He heard Kaede's warning!”

 

Miroku sighed heavily, his shoulders drooping slightly as if a great weight had settled on them. “I fear that is exactly what he intends, though if he's given the jewel to Kikyou…”

 

“You do not trust the priestess,” Sesshomaru stated, Miroku's small shake of the head confirming his suspicion. He'd never bothered to learn the full story behind his brother and the undead miko; he knew that he'd fallen in love with her and she'd rewarded him by sealing him to a tree for fifty years at a most inopportune time. She'd been brought back to unlife after this girl had broken the spell and had been at the fringes of the fight against Naraku. The intricacies of their relationship, the deceits and betrayals, he neither knew nor cared. The black rage was back, tainting his thoughts with murder and mayhem, but he pushed it down, saving it for when he caught his worthless brother.

 

“Inuyasha believes her to be the same woman he loved over fifty years ago, but she was resurrected in hate and anger. It's what drives her, though he refuses to see it. Kagome,” Miroku laid a gentle hand on her arm, “why would he do this now, of all times?”

 

She blinked back more tears; they wouldn't help her, nothing could. “I don't know,” she mumbled, turning her head away from the questioning stares of her friends and the piercing eyes of Sesshomaru, trying to hide her lie. She knew now why he'd left; she'd been trying to erase Sesshomaru's scent in her frantic after-bath and had failed, miserably. Pursing her lips she glowered at the wall, twisting her guilt in on itself. After all, wasn't she entitled to comfort once in awhile? She was always taking care of others; she loved to do it, it was part of her nature. But sometimes she needed to be taken care of, too. Was it her fault if Sesshomaru had been there instead of him? `If I had a dog-demon's nose, whom would I have smelled on you, Inuyasha?'

 

Sesshomaru nostrils flared as he caught her lie as easily as he smelled her sorrow and anger. He didn't care if she lied to her friends; it was no concern of his. However, she would tell him the truth; explain why his half-brother would have taken such drastic measures against a female he had considered his own and disappeared with a body that didn't belong to him.

 

“Leave us,” he focused his gaze on the monk, who blinked at him in astonishment.

”Sesshomaru-sama, we are grateful for what you have done for Kagome, but-“

 

“It's okay, Miroku. I'll be alright,” Kagome patted his hand reassuringly and smiled up at him with a confidence she didn't feel. Somehow, she knew that Sesshomaru recognized her fib for what it was and deserved to know why his body was now missing.

 

Sango glanced uneasily between the miko and dog demon, sensing something strange between the two but unable to put her finger on it. Since he'd brought her back, still feverish but well on her way to recovery, he hadn't strayed far from her. Come to think of it, Shippo had spent his time either sleeping with Kagome or with Rin tailing Sesshomaru… She shook herself mentally, `You're imagining things. Shippo is following Rin, not Sesshomaru. And Sesshomaru… he wants answers from Kagome. Kami only knows why he hasn't taken off after Inuyasha.'

 

Sighing and pushing away her thoughts, Sango pulled the monk to his feet and ushered him and the children to the doorway of the hut. “Just don't tire yourself, Kagome; you have no idea how sick you were. I'll be back in a bit with Lady Akina to check on you.”

 

Kagome nodded, wincing as pain shot through her neck and settled in her head, throbbing behind her eyes. If this is what it felt like to be better, then she must have almost died! It was the only piece of the puzzle that she couldn't quite place, but Sesshomaru answered her question before it formed on her lips.

 

“Inuyasha poisoned you.”

 

Her eyes widened as the significance of the wounds on her neck hit her, the itching and burning of each scratch suddenly having a meaning more dreadful than she would care to believe. `Inuyasha did this to me! And Sesshomaru…'

 

“Miroku said you-“

 

“We will speak of it later. For now, I want to know why he attacked you.”

 

She lowered her gaze, tracing the rough hem of the fire-rat haori that she knew so well. “He smelled you on me. He thought that… oh, I don't even know what he thought. Baka.” Sesshomaru watched as her face settled into an annoyed frown, almost petulant in nature, but her eyes were dark and haunted.

 

So, the half-breed idiot had gotten jealous and instead of marking her to warn off other males, he'd injured her (inadvertently), stolen the jewel, and run off with the golem. Baka, indeed. However, he doubted that the idiot was gone for good; no matter what he thought his heart wanted, he would eventually come to realize that the undead miko was not a suitable mate. He would be back for the living one.

 

`Who,' he had to suppress the twitching of his lips, `is no longer available.' The idea of being burdened with the female was no longer so onerous. After years of longing for the Tetsusaiga, not only did he have the sword, he also had his brother's intended. `Let him come to take her; I'd like to see him try.' Then he would know what it was to feel jealousy, covetousness, and the futility that came with not being able to fulfill his desires.

 

Dare he wait for his half-brother to come to his senses and return? He did not want to speculate what the ignoramus could be doing with his body but did not like the possible consequences if he were to go after him and somehow miss him on his return. Then Inuyasha would have the jewel, both priestesses, and his body. Unacceptable.

 

He huffed, again irritated by his indecision and the odd position in which he found himself. For centuries, the machinations of others had not concerned him; conquest had been his objective and any creature that stood in his way was obliterated. Now he must plan carefully or lose his lands, title, and pride. He had no doubt that he would be successful; he would just have to be cautious, a wholly unfamiliar concept to the arrogant lord. But cautious did not mean hiding in the shadows.

 

`This Sesshomaru does not hide,' he growled low to himself, suddenly finding chocolate eyes gazing up at him questioningly yet fearlessly. The answer to his dilemma slowly formed in his mind, reflected in black hair and white bandages, hardly more pale than the flesh they covered. Even though wracked with pain, she emanated a deep, ancient power.

 

The miko was his, now. He could do as he pleased.